I'm Him?
by Shunyata Ryuen
Summary: Struggling beneath the rule of an oppressive mother, Riley finds her escape through an anime called Fushigi Yuugi. But, when she awakens with a flash of pain and the sign of the Willow gleaming on her chest, things change. Could it actually be...real?
1. I'm Him? - 1

DISCLAIMER: Yuu Watase = goddess. I = jealous. You = reader. Nuriko = cool. Disclaimer = over.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a reincarnation type story...but...erm...a kinda weird one. Read at your own risk. :)  
  
---  
  
"I'm Him?"  
by Ryuen  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Part I: Just A Normal Girl  
  
---  
  
I smile contentedly, letting my chin rest on the crook of my arm, my breath making hollow donuts on the smooth glass of the coffee table. It's been a horrible day...dragged out of bed at seven...forced to dust and vacuum room after room while Mom went on errands. Then, there were dishes to wash, dishes to dry, plants to water, cats to feed, windows to clean, floors to scrub, mirrors to polish, toys to pick up...ack. What a day. Sometimes I truly despise being a girl...really. Mom's so old-fashioned...I get trapped in a stereotype no matter what I do.  
  
If there are dishes, I do them. If there's cleaning to be done...I do it. If there's a lawn to be mowed or crates to be moved or a bottle to be opened...she calls for him--brother dearest to the rescue... Gah. Pisses me off. But, hey...I'll be out of here soon, right? College... It'll be weird, I think, being on my own...but, it'll be nice to live like a human being for a change, to maybe act like I want to act instead of how 'girls are supposed to act.'  
  
Ah, but I'm not really this bitter...just...er...annoyed.  
  
Sighing deeply, I turn my head to the side, let my cheek press against the bare skin of my arm, and let a happy, glazed smile drift over my lips. Ah, anime...ahhhhh, Fushigi Yuugi. I snicker, watching with a bit of glee as Nuriko knocks Tasuki into a wall...God, I love this stuff. Eat it up like Miaka at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Romance, intrigue, adventure, sacrifice...but most of all, friendship. Gah, I wish I had friends like these...bonds like these can't ever be broken, can they? I want that...I want that so badly.  
  
To be needed...to need others...it must be wonderful.  
  
I take a moment to glance at the dull days of my life, feel a frown thickening the skin between my eyebrows. Why can't real life be like this? God...what I wouldn't give to wake up and find myself in some chamber of Hotohori's palace in Konan, Nuriko right down the hall, Miaka racing around screaming, "Tamahome!" Tasuki shrieking out curse words... I sigh again, and sink down onto the rough green carpeting, pressing a hand over my eyes. Agh, I promised myself I wouldn't do this again...but, nonetheless, the feelings are there, and so, unfortuately, are the memories.  
  
It was a few months ago...a fluke, really...an accident. Someone from school, barely knew them...found out I liked anime, handed me a tape...and, good Lord, I fell in love. Every character...every episode...every moment. It resonated with me, left me awed and unable to move from my chair even to eat or sleep. It was worse than an addiction, worse than an obsession. It was like my own life ceased to exist, faded into the bowels of nothingness...because THIS was how life was supposed to be. THIS was how it was all supposed to be.   
  
I let out a frustrated growl, hurl a pillow at the TV. What is it about this anime? Why can't I watch it without this strange feeling in my heart, this odd familiarity rebounding in my skull... I scowl. It's damn strange...perfect psychiatrist fodder. Better not let Mom get wind of it. I grimace. Mom...  
  
As if on cue, I hear the familiar squeak of my mother's door upstairs, the thud of her feet hitting the stairs. "Riiiiiiiiley," she calls in a low, warning voice. "You're not watching those weird foreign cartoons again, are you...?"  
  
I sigh, reaching for the remote to click off the VCR. "Not anymore, Mom."  
  
She draws a long breath, lets it out slowly. "You know it's not a good idea to get too obsessed with anything, Riley--remember what happened with Star Wars when you were little? Thought were you a Jedi...let's not see that happen with this, all right? Besides," she adds, folding thin arms over her chest and stepping into view, "you're getting up early tomorrow to help me clean the garage, so you'd better get to bed. Ted'll do the heavy stuff, of course, but we'll sweep and clean...lots of work to do since your father left..."  
  
I let out a low growl, pressing a pillow against my face to hide the anger...but Mom, of course, picks up on it anyway. "No arguments," she chides, and I can practically see her holding up that index finger sternly... "It needs to be cleaned, and everyone's going to help, not just you. So, not a word of whining."  
  
I'm so tired...I can't even find the will to stop myself from blurting the first thing that comes to my mind. "That's not it," I mutter. "I'm stronger than Ted is, you know that...but you still let him do all the hard stuff and make me do all the cleaning." I scowl. "Just 'cause I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm weak."  
  
Silence. I risk a glance over the pillow, peer out at my mother. There's a perplexed look on her face, a worried frown twisting her lips downwards. "There's a difference between men's work and woman's work," she says quietly after a few moments, still frowning. "I just want you to stick to what you're meant for...you could hurt yourself doing anything else. It's just because I worry about you, Riley..." She pauses, seems to spend a moment debating, then takes a long step forward, peers down at me with suspicious eyes. "Riley...you know I don't like to pry into your private life, but..." She sighs. "Ted told me you've been pretending to be a boy online. Is that true?"  
  
I freeze, shocked and angry, and rise up to my knees, stare at her in blank horror. "I...I don't...I...well..." I sigh. "So what if I do? It's not hurting anybody..."  
  
Her eyes narrow, and I know I'm done for. "It's dishonest, and it...frankly, it makes me wonder about you, Riley...I mean, you hate wearing makeup, you never wear dresses, and now you're pretending to be a boy online...I mean, are you...are you..."  
  
I groan, throw myself melodramatically onto the floor. "Mom, don't even finish that sentence."  
  
"Well, I have to wonder! I mean, normal girls don't go online and pretend to be MEN...normal girls put on makeup and go out on dates and wear dresses and don't complain when their mother's don't want them to do MAN'S work..."  
  
I...I can't take it. Enraged, I leap up to my feet, brush past my mother, and storm up to my room. The door slams shut behind me...and finally...it's quiet...peaceful...I can breathe again. I fall onto my bed, draw my knees to my chest. She doesn't understand...never will. There's...there's something inside of me that tells me that I'm more than this, that there's something strong and powerful hiding beneath this slim frame, these girlish features, these thin arms and legs. There's something there...something better. I turn over on the bed, press my pillow against my eyes until the light fades, until it's dark... Despite my best efforts, I find my thoughts drifting again to my favorite anime, making the comparison I know I shouldn't but just can't help...  
  
It's like Nuriko. So unassuming...so thin and small...everyone underestimates him...but damn it if he isn't the strongest of all of them.   
  
The strongest of all of them...yeah. That's what I wanna be.   
  
Yeah.  
  
---  
  
Part 2: What Lies Within  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
I...can't breathe.  
  
I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping and in pain. It feels like something's pressing down on my chest, holding me in place, shoving the breath from within me until it becomes nearly impossible to draw even the sparest bits of air into my lungs...God, I'm dying...I can't...I can't breathe... I thrash beneath the blankets, struggle to push myself from the edge of the bed...I have to get help...I have to...I have to get help...or I'm going to die, aren't I? I'll pass out here, look just like I'm sleeping...they'll never know...it'll be too late before they realize anything's wrong, before they realize I'm not breathing...  
  
God, why NOW??  
  
I'm gonna die...I'm...I'm gonna die...I can't breathe, I can't move...I'm too weak...Mom was right...just a weak little girl... Can't get up...can't...can't breathe, can't get up, gonna die. Gonna...gonna lose...  
  
And, suddenly, something snaps.  
  
No. NO. I...I can't lose. Not like this.  
  
Something flares within me, a bright, crimson flame...a...a strength. Yes...yes. It's there, now, warm and solid, blazing through my veins like molten lava, filling me with power...grinning tightly to myself, I let the strength wash over me, fill me until I know that I can do this...that I can move... I push my arms beneath me, shove myself onto my feet, and walk. It's agony...but the strength is there, fueling me onwards, giving me the power...it's hard...it's so hard...I can't breathe...things are starting to waver...but I'm doing it...I'm moving...I'm walking...gods, I'm walking...I can do it...I can get there...I can get help...I CAN SAVE MYSELF! Even if I don't understand why...even if I don't understand how...I can do it.  
  
Because I am...I am...I am something more than this.  
  
I reach the door, wrap my fingers around the cool brass of the knob, and turn. It opens, and I step victoriously into the hallway. Yes. I've...I've done it. I'll make it.   
  
I'll...I'll get help.  
  
Yes. Because I can't lose. Not now, not like this...not after everything I've been through, everything I've fought for...not now...not ever.  
  
And, then, just as the thought drifts through my mind, the air floods abruptly back into my lungs, and I fall to my knees on the rough carpeting, shocked but unfathomably thankful. I can...I can breathe again!...the air rushes up and down my throat, cool and sweet and wondrous...I'm breathing...I'm alive...gods, what happened?  
  
I pause, frowning at my own odd phrasing. //Gods?\\  
  
I shake my head, rise to my feet, and stumble into the bathroom. It doesn't matter...reflex...too much Fushigi Yuugi fanfiction. The point is, whatever it was that was happening is OVER...I'm...I'm alive. I'm safe. I'm breathing. Reassured and still feeling a bit weak in the knees, I lean heavily against the sink, reach up a finger to flick on the lightswitch...and freeze as the room is flooded with a soft white glow, as my own image stares blankly back at me in the mirror.  
  
My lips part, dry and cracked, and a high squeaking sound crackles in my throat. "G...Gods," I whisper, suddenly feeling very ill.  
  
I bring a hand to my nightshirt, tear the fabric downwards, knowing...KNOWING...and, good Lord...it's THERE. Gods...gods...it's there. What the hell is going on? How...how could this...what is...how...it's impossible. Yes. Impossible...must be dreaming...that's it. Dreaming.   
  
Because, God above, I am NOT standing here in my bathroom staring at myself in the mirror...staring at the willow glowing a faint red on my chest. I am NOT...because it's impossible. It's...impossible.  
  
I'm dreaming. Must be. Just a dream.   
  
A dream.  
  
I stumble back to my bed, hide beneath my covers, still shaking and more frightened than I can remember being in my entire life. Trembling, I glance downward, press a hand against the flesh of my upper left chest...and feel a shudder work its way through my body. It's...it's still there. I can feel it fading, the power receding...but it's still there, burning a fiery crimson on my flesh.   
  
What. The. HELL.  
  
I...I don't understand. No...NO. Just a dream. Close your eyes, forget about it. It'll be better in the morning, because it's JUST A DREAM. Just a dream.   
  
I close my eyes...but I can still feel it there...I can feel it.   
  
Because I am...him...somehow...aren't I?   
  
I'm...him.  



	2. I'm Him? - 2

"I'm Him?" - continued from 1  
  
  
Part III: Dawn  
  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Rough fingers dig into my flesh, shake me hard...I come back to consciousness groggily, my eyes sticky and blurry from sleep...someone's standing beside my bed, shaking me...long, silken chestnut hair...immaculate crimson robes...  
  
"Hotohori-sama," I whisper.  
  
And, that's when I come fully awake...and realize with a grimace that it's my MOTHER standing impatiently beside my bed, shaking me awake...not...(I blush)...an anime character come suddenly to life. I groan, watching sleepily as my mom crosses to the other side of the room, flings the window open with one slim hand, and sends a flood of painful sunlight streaming into my eyes...ouch. I wince, pressing my fingers over my eyes, and--after giving myself a bit more time to adjust--peer out at her, try vainly to understand my mistake...  
  
Her hair hangs down over her shoulders, free from its typical ponytail...and, ah--red bathrobe. I smile, briefly, wondering how I could possibly have mixed up my 100-pound, five-foot-tall mother with the emperor of Konan...  
  
I start, sitting up very straight in the bed, and resist the urge to slap myself across the face. Fictional characters, damn it!! FICTIONAL. CHARACTERS. And, animated ones, too!!! Gaaaaah...maybe I SHOULD see a psychiatrist...urgh.   
  
Mom claps her hands together, doesn't seem to notice my internal battle. "Come on, Riley, get up. Big day of cleaning today..."  
  
"I know, I know," I manage, yawning widely. "I'm coming, Mom...I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."  
  
"Good girl." Her eyes narrow...she looks like a hawk about to swoop in for the kill... "You better not go back to sleep, young lady...I'll be back up here to check on you, and if you're not up and moving..." She lets the threat hang in the air between us, and I nod wearily, swing my legs over the side of the bed to show my cooperation...nodding briefly, Mom turns and leaves the room. I hear her pounding on Ted's door a few moments later, struggling to jiggle the lock free with a pick-up stick...that's it...I should start locking my door...if I'm going to give up my sleep, I might as well put up a fight, right?  
  
A fight... Sleep...  
  
I pause, frowning, my feet dangling limply over the side of the mattress, and bring a hand to my forehead. Something about...about last night...a dream... ACK. It washes over my in a rush of heat and memory, leaves me feeling breathless and weak and dizzy...no...no...it must've just been a dream...some weird hallucination... Mom's probably right, I HAVE been watching too much anime...that's all it was...just a dream...a weird, freaky dream...but a dream.  
  
Nonetheless...  
  
Shaking, I lift a thin hand, bring it to the soft white fabric of my nightshirt...and tug it down hard. I let out a soft sigh of relief. Nothing there. No willow, no glowing mark, nothing glowing at ALL.   
  
Nothing. Just a dream.  
  
I laugh lightly, briefly appalled at my own stupidity. Of COURSE it was just a dream. Gah, would I EVER really be that lucky? Wishful thinking...that was it. I wanted it to be real so badly that I created a way for it to be...created a way for me to be a part of it...for it to NOT just be some weird obsession, but to be REAL...  
  
God. I'm hopeless.  
  
Hopeless...but at least not crazy. Sighing softly and taking a moment to brush the sweat-sticky hair from my forehead, I rise to my feet, cross the room to the bureau. I gaze at myself in the mirror for a long time, take in my small, oval-shaped face, my smooth, tanned skin, my long, thick dark hair...on impulse, I grab a handful of hair, begin to twist it into that familiar braid...it's silly, of course...but, who'll even know? Nobody else in my family is even remotely attracted to anime, and none of them know of Nuriko except that it's that "weird Japanese word" they keep seeing in all my new AIM screennames...  
  
I stretch and twist and pull, smile at my handiwork...perfect. Like I've been doing this everyday all my life. My hair's not quite long enough for the perfect effect, of course, but it's certainly an adequate length to at least be reminiscent of Nuriko's braid...I twist a ponytail holder over the end of the braid, drop it so it hangs over my left shoulder--it reaches nearly to my waist, impressive but not PERRRFECT. I scowl at the thought, shake my head dully at my own idiocy. After all, I'm sitting here in front of my mirror, styling my hair a certain way just because some guy I adore in an anime wears it that way...gah. What a goober.  
  
But, hey, no one's gonna know. I just...felt like braiding my hair today. Mom'll probably be ecstatic, think I'm acting more like a girl...my lips twist into a dry smile. I almost wish I could look her in the face and say, "Oh, actually, I'm wearing my hair like this because a guy I like on an anime wears it like this. Yeah, he's a crossdresser...might be gay, too...aren'tcha glad, Mom?"  
  
I snicker, for some reason drawing a perverse pleasure from the thought of being so wickedly-honest with my mother...ah, but no. She'd have me in a psychiatrist's chair before I even got to finish the sentence. So, for now I'll just sit back, smile, and maybe pretend like I have that kind of courage, that kind of strength. For now...I'll pretend I AM Nuriko, because I've got nothing better to do and it's always fun to pretend... What would he be doing right now? Not moping, that's for sure...nothing ever seems to bother him...always has a smile or a laugh...always so cheerful...especially in the mornings...  
  
I grin. See, there? I can't be him. I'm NOT a morning person.  
  
For a moment, I feel a twinge of regret, wish vainly that perhaps my strange dream COULD be real...that I really COULD be some weird reincarnation of Nuriko...that the world I love so dearly really DOES exist, isn't just a figment of Yuu Watase's imagination...I grin. Kats would be so jealous, if it were true...I laugh once, mirthlessly. Yeah, right. After she had me committed and strapped into a straight jacket...THEN, maybe she'd be jealous. Then again...  
  
I sigh. God, I'm such a weird kid.  
  
"Riley, Ted!" comes the shout from downstairs. "I'm coming up, and you better not be sleeping!"  
  
I let out a frustrated huff of air. "I'm not, Mom!" I turn my head briefly to the side so I'm facing the door. "I'm awake! I swear!"  
  
Her feet thud against the steps. "We'll just see about that," she mutters.  
  
Despite myself, I smile. Mom would make a good seishi...she's one tough lady. I scowl. Even if she is a little too wrapped up in stereotypes... I see that familiar dark head peek over the banister, peer suspiciously into my room...when she sees I'm out of bed and seemingly awake, Mom lets out a soft breath, grants me a firm, approving nod. "Good girl," she announces, nodding again. Her eyes widen, briefly, as she notices the long braid clasped between my fingers, the soft wisps of the bangs that hang lightly over my eyes. She smiles, very softly. "You look nice."  
  
Unsure of how to answer and very unaccustomed to the compliment, I raise an eyebrow, nod slightly. "Uh...thanks," I manage.   
  
Then, the odd expression clears from her face, and Mom is just Mom again. "Ted," she calls out in a low, warning voice, turning and reaching up a hand to pound on my brother's door. "Ted, you better be AWAKE IN THERE!"  
  
A sleepy mumble drifts through the door, and I grin. Mom starts fiddling with the door, which Ted apparently locked after she left...smart boy. I'm really gonna have to start locking that thing at night... Drawing in another long, cool breath of the morning air, I rise from my chair, step out into the hallway, and move towards the steps. A few minutes later, I'm leaning comfortably against the banister of the porch, a glass of iced tea clasped between my fingers, the early morning sunlight casting a pleasant orange hue over my skin, warming my face and body. I smile, take a long, appreciate breath of the warming air.  
  
Life in the real world isn't all bad, I decide after another moment of savoring the sunshine, the fragrant air, the twitterings of birds... No. Sometimes, it's not bad at all. After all...there are still mornings like these.  
  
My smile turns bittersweet. Even if I'll never be a great warrior or save lives or have friends I rely on or a battle I can believe in...at least I'll have this. I'll always long for that, though; for the one thing I know I can never have... But the mornings, at least, will always be mine.  
  
The inevitable anime comparison floats into my mind, makes me frown.  
  
Like Hotohori and Nuriko. Nuriko loves Hotohori, but can never have him...but he loves him anyway. I long to be part of that...part of that world, those people, those bonds...but I know I never can be. Ah, but I still long for it.  
  
Well, that's one thing. I'm stubborn like Nuriko.  
  
"Riley?"  
  
I start at the sound of the voice so near to me, turn to the nearby window. "What is it, Mom?"  
  
Her head is bent forward slightly, angled oddly so she can stare at me through the small window. "Finish your iced tea and take your shower. I want to start cleaning at nine and it's already ten after eight. Come on, get moving."  
  
I sigh. "I can hardly wait. Okay, hang on, I'm coming."  
  
Mom nods and vanishes back into the house, the swish of the window sliding closed the only sound to mark her passing. Drawing in another deep, calming breath, I drain the rest of the iced tea, turn to the door, and move back into the house.  
  
As I move, an odd though strikes me, makes me pause.   
  
//Things are going to change today.\\  
  
I frown, shaking my head briefly, and take a long step inside, push the door closed behind me. Too little sleep, too much anime, not enough caffeine. Yep...that's it. Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I walk to the fridge, tug it open, and pour myself another glass of iced tea.  
  
Change or not...it's gonna be a long day. I don't need seishi powers to sense that.  
  
--- 


	3. I'm Him? - 3

"I'm Him?" - continued from 2  
  
PART IV: Beginning  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
"Muhhhhhhh-therrrrrrrrr!"  
  
I hear the squeak of hinges, the slap of canvas shoes striking the linoleum. "What is it, Riley?" I can practically see those dark eyes narrow suspiciously. "You're not getting out of cleaning, so don't even try anything..."  
  
I snicker. She's so predictable...ah, well. Shaking my head briefly despite the fact that, poised as I am at the top of the steps, she can't see me at all, I draw a short breath, continue. "No, no, it's not that. Kats just called. Is it okay if she comes over?" My lips twist into an innocent smile. "She'll help us cleeeeeeaaaaan..."  
  
Mom appears at the bottom of the stairs, clad in short khaki shorts and a black T-shirt, thin arms folded tightly over her chest. Her Hotohori-hair is piled into a bun on the top of her head, but strands of it wisp downward, create a chestnut halo about her face. Her face is stern...as is her voice...but that's no surprise. "Kats?" she echoes carefully.  
  
"Katherine," I mutter. "'Kats' is for short." We've been through this conversation before at least sixteen times...but, that's my mother. Selective amnesia. Uh-huh.  
  
Mom sighs lightly. "Katherine is such a lovely name...I don't see why she would want to shorten it to something as unattractive as 'Kats.'" Her lip curls.  
  
I resist the urge to roll my eyes with only the greatest exertions of willpower. "So," I interject, twirling the bottom of my braid with two fingers as I speak, "can she come over? She said she'd loooove to help out...really..."   
  
Well...she said she wouldn't mind watching ME work...but, hey, that's almost the same thing, right? I nod inwardly to myself. Right.   
  
Mom spends a long moment in thought...then at last nods, narrows her eyes at me. "I suppoooose," she drawls. Her dark eyebrows suddenly push together, and her mouth twists downwards. "But, you two will NOT sit in this house all day and watch those foreign cartoons, understand? You'll be in the garage, helping. Just because you have a friend over does not mean you're excused from your chores." Firm nod, suspicious glance...and, then she turns and moves back into the kitchen, tugs open the door to the garage.  
  
I sigh, resting my head against the wall for a long moment. Kats probably won't be happy about this...I brighten. Ah, well. At least I'll have someone else to help ease the insanity...oi. Sighing, I cross the hallway into my room, close the door behind me, and gather my collection of body washes for the shower. Distantly, I hear the familiar drone of Ted's snoring, and snicker. That kid's obviously doing something right...I swear, he manages to add at least an hour or more to his sleep every single morning after Mom wakes him up... My lips twist into a scowl. And, HE never gets in trouble over it...is it because he's a boy?   
  
Gah. I hate being a girl. Twisting a towel around myself, I gaze up at my collection of Nuriko pictures on the far wall, press my fingers lightly against the violet-haired seishi's image, and shake my head. "Nuriko," I murmur, "this isn't what you want. Think twice about it, okay? Being a girl is more trouble than it's worth." I grin. "Even if does mean you can go after Hotohori-sama."  
  
Folding a brief knot into the thick blue fabric of the towel, I cross the room, tug open the door, and cross the hallway to the bathroom. A few moments later I'm standing beneath a flow of warm water, eyes closed tightly, darkened images dancing lazily before my vision. My tensed muscles relax...my breathing slows...it's nice...to just be able to stand here, to let the water wash over me, the heavy, moist air fill my lungs...to do nothing but rest...relax...put all troubles out of my head...forget that the outside world even exists...  
  
But, I can't let myself get TOO relaxed...I have to be careful. It'd be a little hard to explain if one of the maids walked in on me while I was in the bath...wouldn't be too hard for them to figure out from that that I'm really a--  
  
...  
  
...  
  
...  
  
WHAT the HELL!?!?   
  
I shake myself hard, eyes flaring open in shock, and slap a hand across my cheek. Yep, that feels real...what, was I dreaming?? What the hell...was...that?  
  
I lean my elbow against the wall of the shower, press my forehead to it. God...this isn't right...something must be wrong with me...this isn't NORMAL...! Must've...um...just been an extension of the dream from last night, right? RIGHT. That's all...just...um...just an extension. Not real. Ha-ha. Of COURSE not real. Stupid Riley...think about it. This is an ANIMATED series. How could it even remotely be real? Yuu Watase's a real person...it's just something she made up, something that came to her...Nuriko's just a character! Someone MADE-UP!   
  
I...I can't be him. It's stupid. Silly. Okay, REEEEEEALLY silly.  
  
But...but, still...the thought hangs within me, and as I straighten, finish massaging the lilac-scented shampoo into my long, dark hair (I'll have to rebraid it, I think suddenly, scowling), I know that there's been something very strange going on with me these last few days...something weird...something so weird, in fact, that I can't even bear to think about it. So...so, I won't.  
  
Yeah, that's...that's it. I'll just...I'll just put it out of my mind, focus on the things I NEED to focus on, and soon it'll be nighttime again...soon I can sleep...vanish into the darkness...go away for awhile. Watching more anime...would probably not be a good idea. Kats'll be disappointed...but, I think she'd understand if I explained it.  
  
I snicker, smack myself on the forehead. Yeah, right. I'm SUUUUURE she'd understand. "Oh, yeah, by the way, Kats...see, we can't watch any Fushigi Yuugi today, because lately I've been thinking that I'm actually Nuriko and so I really need to keep away from it for awhile so I can see if I'm crazy or not. You understand, right? Thought you would..."  
  
Gah. I'm such an idiot.  
  
--- 


	4. I'm Him? - 4

"I'm Him?" - continued from 3  
  
PART V: Fire and Ice  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
My hair is wet, but I braid it anyway, twist the thick strands of brown until they're perfectly plaited, then twist, pull it tight...perfect. My bangs fall softly over my eyes, obstruct my vision somewhat, but I barely notice. Sighing, I rise to my feet, cross to my dresser, and shove a hand into the mass of socks, drag a pair out, toss it onto the bed. The air is heavy and lightly scented with the fragrance of lilacs from my shampoo, and for a moment, I feel a strange familiarity, an odd, ringing weight settling in my mind...that scent...something about it...  
  
I shake my head, sending the braid flopping lightly against my chest, and pad silently over to the nearby closet, shove the door open and peer inside. On impulse, I reach forward, let my fingers brush against the soft violet silk of my only dress...I bought it last year, another strange impulse...I passed it--we were shopping for Christmas presents, and we walked by a display...and before I knew it, I was standing in front of this dress, barely able to take my eyes off it or pry my fingers from the fabric...doubly weird, of course, since I'm not a big fan of dresses...  
  
//Must be because you're really Nuriko,\\ mutters a dry voice inside me.  
  
I grin, shift my attention to the bothersome task of choosing something to wear...and pause, frowning, as I spot an unfamiliar outfit hanging just before me, neatly pressed and dangling between my favorite grey sweater and a pair of jeans...what the...? I grasp onto the soft, achingly-familiar blue fabric, tug the hanger free of the closet, and stare at the cloth in something very akin to shock. It's a tunic of soft, light royal blue, high-collared, with a thin lacing of gold running down the front, skating to the bottom edge of the fabric...I hold it before me with shaking hands, know even before I press it against my chest that the tunic itself will come nearly to my knees... The pants are a light, soothing shade of pink, loose enough to be comfortable but not so loose that it makes riding difficult...  
  
Or...or fighting.  
  
A ghost of the pain flickers through me, makes me winces. I draw a hand to my side, hold it there, and close my eyes, try vainly to concentrate on the strange, oddly-familiar emotions racing through me...  
  
Something dings. I snap from my reverie, turn reflexively towards the window...and sigh, deeply, as I realize that it's the doorbell...Kats must be here...   
  
Gods. How long have I been standing here??  
  
Frowning again, I carefully return the tunic to its former place in the closet...then, think twice, move it to the very back, cover it with the silken violet of the dress...and wrap my fingers around a plain grey tanktop and a pair of cut-off jean shorts. I turn, already tugging the tanktop on over my head...and freeze, arms still held stiffly above my head, as my eyes coast over the once-empty surface of my dresser...  
  
What...the...hell? There, sitting in a quiet pile of silver on the varnished wood of my dresser, are...are...  
  
I cross the room almost without realizing it, find myself standing there before them, the early morning sunshine glistening against the cool, smooth metal, shining a brilliant emerald against the embedded jewels... My fingers wrap around them, hold them to the light. "Bracelets," I whisper.  
  
And...and not just any bracelets. These are, quite unmistakably, NURIKO'S bracelets. Good God...what the hell is going on here...? It...it must be some sort of weird joke...yeah...that's it...I bet Kats is in on it, too...first, make me think weird thoughts, then cash in on it by sticking some freaky anime replicas in my room...yeah...yeah, that's it...MUST be it...because...it can't be REAL. Stupid girl. Of course it's not real...I'm not...I'm not him...  
  
But...but, the symbol...the willow...last night...  
  
NO! Damn it...that was just a dream. I was thinking about it when I went to sleep--hell, I'd just watched episode thirty three AGAIN--it was in my mind already! That was...that was why I dreamed about that...why I thought I saw something I obviously didn't...  
  
Yeah. That was...that was it.  
  
"Oi! Riiiiiiiiiiiiley!"  
  
I grimace, suddenly remembering Kats... "Be down in a sec!" I shout, hurrying back to the bed and beginning to tug on my shorts. In my rush, I slide the bracelets onto my wrists, feel an odd tingle of power trickle into me with the motion...and stop myself, frowning and feeling unendurably stupid...what am I doing?? If Kats really DID do this...then, gah, she'll know I fell for it if she sees me wearing these damn bracelets...   
  
But...but...  
  
My fingers pause over the soft, cool metal, and I frown, gaze at the glistening, jeweled bracelets in confusion. Why...why does it feel like taking them off would be the worst thing I could do? Why do...why do I feel like if I pull them off...if I dare remove them...that...that something bad will happen?  
  
I let out a low growl, hurl the nearest object (which happens, luckily, to be my towel) at the wall, and stomp to the door. FINE. Fine...I'll keep the stupid things on, march downstairs and make an idiot of myself. Kats'll probably get a good laugh out of it...gah. I'm such a moron.  
  
Sighing and resigned to my fate, I tug open the door, step out into the hallway, and thud down the stairs. Kats is standing there just beside the door, back leaning comfortably against the wall. She's clad in a typical Kats-summer-ensemble: jeans, tanktop, sandals, and sunglasses. But...there's something different about her...  
  
I frown, coming to a slow halt at the bottom of the stairs. "Did you...do something to your hair?"  
  
Her face is oddly serious, a thick, frowning crease forming in the center of her forehead. "Yeah," she answers after a moment, glancing briefly from left to right as if checking to make sure we're alone. She turns back to me, then, flushing slightly, and reaches up a hand to brush at the fiery-red tufts of her hair. "I dyed it...but, believe me, it wasn't exactly by choice."  
  
I frown. "Not by choice? But...what do you--"  
  
"Look, I can't explain now. All I know is that somethin' damn weird is goin' on here, and you're probably gonna think I'm crazy if I even try to explain it to y--" She breaks off, mouth hanging dully open, and stares at me as if suddenly realizing something. Her lips twist into a frown, then she takes a long step forward, points an accusing finger at my wrists. "What the hell are those?! They look @#(*$&@#$ just like--"  
  
My eyes widen, and I glance towards the garage, looking nervous. "Kats!" I hiss. "Watch your mouth." I turn back, sighing, and study my friend for a moment, consider the fact that she might not just be setting me up for another of her strange practical jokes... "Look," I announce at last, my voice low and harsh, "there's something weird going on with me, too...something REALLY weird...but, I don't think that now is the best--"  
  
Something squeaks, and then there's a swish of displaced air, the thud of canvas shoes on linoleum. "Riley!" comes an irritated shout from the kitchen. "Stop poking and get in here! Ted and I will NOT clean this garage by ourselves...you and Katherine have two minutes!" Thud-thud. Squeak. SLAM.  
  
Kats growls low in her throat. "You and KATHERINE?" she echoes suspiciously. "Riley, you said I wasn't gonna be doing any cleaning..."  
  
I wince. "Um...well...that's not EXACTLY what I said..." I wait, patiently, as the stream of obscenities springs from her throat, wait for Kats to exhaust herself...and pause, frowning, as she turns in her tirade, and I catch a glimpse of metal... "Stop," I command sharply, reaching out a hand and latching onto the other girl's arm. "Kats...what's...what's that...that thing sticking out of your bookbag?"  
  
Her face goes pale. Her voice, when she speaks, is low and solemn. "It's the weirdest damn thing I've ever heard of," she murmurs, eyes wide and serious. "It was @#*&@$ sittin' on my dresser this morning when I got up--damn it, look at it! It's just like it...just @(*#&@#$ like it...and, there was this...this OUTFIT in my closet..." Her voice drops, and she shakes her head, looks momentarily worried. "Damn, man, it's @#(*&@$ weird. I mean, it's almost like...it's almost...it's almost like..."  
  
A chill sweeps over me, leaves me feeling cold and numb and scared. "Like you're Tasuki," I whisper. 


	5. I'm Him? - 5

"I'm Him?" - continued from 4  
  
PART VI: Denial   
  
~ ~ ~  
  
For a long moment, neither of us can speak. I sit down hard on the steps, press my forehead into my hand and let my elbow rest on my knee...what's going on? I don't...I don't get it... I shake my head, struggle vainly to get some grip--ANY grip--on something resembling reality, but it's all drifted away, left me cold and alone with nothing but these weird memories and the reassuring weight of metal over my wrists...gods. What the hell is going on?  
  
Is it...is it a dream? This whole thing? Am I crazy? Hallucinating?   
  
I hear a sharp intake of air from just in front of me, glance up at Kats...she's standing there, gazing down at me with wide eyes, looking like she's just seen a ghost...or is seeing one right now... "Damn, man!" she exclaims, pointing a surprised finger at my chest. "You're...you're..." Her voice drops to a whisper, and she leans in, jabs me in the ribcage. "You're HIM!"  
  
I let out a low groan and return my head to my hands, squeeze my eyes tightly shut. "No. No. I refuse to think about this...NO. Come on, Kats, LISTEN to what we're saying! It's stupid! These are...these are FICTIONAL characters! ANIMATED ones for God's sake!"  
  
But...unfortunately, Kats doesn't seem to hear, as she's rather preoccupied with dancing wildly about the entryway... "Are you kidding?" she demands, grinning down at me...I half expect to see that she's grown fangs, but as luck would have it, she hasn't. "Come on, Riley, stop bein' so down--this is great!" She lets out a low, maniacal stream of laughter. "Heyyyyy, I wonder where the OTHER seishi are. You know, there's this really hot guy down at work who has hair JUST like Hotohori's...I wonder if maybe--"  
  
"CUT IT OUT!" I roar, leaping to my feet and raising a fist. Kats backs up, hands held palm outwards in front of her, and I realize with a rather frightening suddenness that I'd been bracing myself to knock her into the wall... I frown, sink again to the steps. Knock Kats into the wall?? I've never hit anyone in my LIFE! Why would I...why would that even come to mind?  
  
//Simple, idiot. 'Cause you're Nuriko and she's Tasuki, remember?\\  
  
Agggh...this is...this is just too weird.  
  
"Look," I hiss, stepping forward and grabbing onto the collar of Tasuki-incarnate's shirt, "this isn't real. Come on, Kats, think about it for a minute. It CAN'T be real. Come on, really. Us? The reincarnations of FICTIONAL, ANIMATED characters?? Real people and fictional ones don't tend to mix all that well..."  
  
Kats sniffs. "It worked for Tamahome and Miaka."  
  
"They're BOTH fictional, baka!"  
  
"How do YOUUUUUU know? They might be real." She sniffs again, turning the tessen over in her hands and staring at it with a manic glint in her eyes. "Hey, for all we know, maybe Yuu Watase's really Miaka or somethin' and the series was just her way o' cashin' in on what happened to her in the book."  
  
"Oh, come on..."  
  
Her lips twist upwards into a smile, then, and Kats takes a long step forward, leans down so she can look me straight in the eye. "Okay, well if it's NOT real, then how do you explain this?" She hefts the tessen, flashes me a grin, then waves a finger at my bracelets. "Or those?"  
  
I shrug a bit uncomfortably. "A joke."  
  
"A joke? Come onnnn..."  
  
"A dream, then. Or a hallucination."  
  
"Both of us?"  
  
I scowl. "Maybe you're just IN my hallucination."  
  
Swish. Thud-thud-thud. "Girls!" The irritated voice echoes through the kitchen, makes me jump. "Come on! There's cleaning to do, and Ted and I are not doing it alone! I won't ask again, Riley!" Thud-thud. Swish. Bang.  
  
Kats looks thoughtful for a moment, rocking back on her heels and glancing down at herself as if seeing herself for the first time. "Hey, I wonder why I'd choose to be reborn as a girl..."  
  
"WILL YOU CUT IT OUT?" I bellow, leaping again to my feet and--again--raising my fist. "Come on," I manage after a moment through gritted teeth, skipping lightly down the rest of the stairs and brushing past Kats towards the kitchen. "My mom's gonna kill us if we don't get out there and help."  
  
Kats lets out another manic chuckle. "Oh, don't worry about THAT...I'm sure I could...talk some sense into her..." She hefts the tessen, a fiery gleam in her eye...  
  
I turn, one hand resting on the doorknob, and scowl at her. "Put that thing away...and not a WORD about this in there. My mom already thinks I'm gay. Let's not add 'delusional' to the list."  
  
Kats places two fingers over her chin, looks thoughtful. "Hmm...well, I mean, if you ARE a reincarnation of a guy..."  
  
"KATS," I growl.   
  
"Fine, fine...let's go."  
  
---  
  
PART VII: Reality  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
We step into the garage, me still feeling slightly shaken and Kats still grinning like an idiot...and I take a moment to survey the progress. Mom's moved the car out into the driveway, leaving a large empty space in the center of the cluttered garage, almost like the eye of a storm, I find myself thinking... The three other sides of the room are piled with shelves and boxes and random items collected over the last eighteen years or so, and a few spots on the floor, usually a dingy, dusty grey, are wet and slick from the hose and my mother's mop...I wrinkle my nose at the rest of the floor, realizing with a wash of mild nausea just what's in store for me today...urgh. Kats slows behind me, and I know she, too, is equally unenthused with the idea of mopping out the rest of the garage...ick.  
  
Mom is bent low on the ground, scrubbing at a dark mark on the floor whose identity I don't even want to think about, while Ted stands on the other side of the room, stacking and restacking boxes...I scowl, feeling the familiar rage beginning to boil within me. Kats sidles up behind me, leans close so as not to be overheard.  
  
"We get to scrub and he gets to stack?" she mutters into my ear. "Sure you don't want me to get out the tessen...?"  
  
I cast her a brief glance, and she shrugs, offers me a hey-at-least-I-tried grin, and pushes past me into the cleared center of the garage. "Hey, where d'ya want me to start?"  
  
Mom glances up from her scrubbing, smiles pleasantly at my fiery-haired friend. "Oh, hello, Katherine. Thank you so much for volunteering to help out today." I roll my eyes, but Kats isn't even looking in my direction...she's frowning at something on the other side of the room...   
  
I turn, follow her gaze...and notice that she's watching my brother closely, her forehead creased into a frown. Ignoring my mother's pleasantries, she steps towards him, raises a hand as if in question. "Hey, Ted...you sure you got that? Looks like you're havin' some trouble..."  
  
Ted, a stack of five or six boxes balanced in his shaking arms, takes a balancing step backwards, staggers a bit beneath the load. "No," he manages, gritting his teeth and trying vainly to get the boxes to the other side of the room. "N...no...I'm...I can...I can...do it..."  
  
I notice the slick floor, Ted's flat-bottomed shoes, and the inevitable conclusion at the same moment Kats does, and we both rush forward, are at his side in an instant...it's a...a strange thing. We move as if we've done this before, as if we're somehow completely attuned to each other...like we've had to move in perfect synchronization before...but, now, of course, is not the time to be thinking about that... Putting the thought out of my mind, I reach forward and grab the boxes from Ted's arms just as his feet slide out from under him...meanwhile, Kats comes up from behind, catches him as he plummets backwards, pushes him back onto his feet...  
  
"RILEY!" my mother shrieks, leaping to her feet and staring at me in shock.  
  
I turn to look at her, my eyes wide and puzzled, the adrenaline still pumping through my system. "What?" I ask dumbly, vaguely aware of the fact that I'm still holding the boxes...but I barely feel them.  
  
Kats snickers, raises an eyebrow at me. "You can prob'ley put those anywhere, Rie..."  
  
And, that's when I glance downward...and realize that I'm standing here with six boxes balanced on one slim hand, the silver bracelets dangling lightly from my wrists, and not an ounce of pain is flickering through me... Puzzled and awed, I raise the hand with the boxes, experimentally, watch as the impossibly-tall stack of cardboard and plastic raises with it, nearly bumps against the ceiling...  
  
I can feel the shocked stares of my mother and brother, can hear Ted struggling vainly to force some sound from his mouth...but, I can also see Kats standing there, arms folded lightly over her chest, flashing me that familiar crooked grin. And, that's when I know. It hits me softly, whispers through my mind and heart like a gentle wave...the memories come first, flashes of images and sound and sensation...and, then the feelings...that irreplacable bond of friendship and camaraderie...the deep, warming love you can only attain after spending so much time with a group of people that you start to think with an extension of the same mind...  
  
I take a step forward, gently lower the boxes to the ground, and stand there staring at Kats, at that familiar, almost taunting posture, that wide, confident grin, that wild, flame-red hair...gods. It's really him, isn't it?   
  
"T...Tasuki," I whisper.  
  
Tasuki/Kats grins, raises a brief hand. "Oi, I @(#*&@#$ told ya it was for real." The grin widens as the seishi glances down at the body below him, raises a thin, dark eyebrow. "Still don't know why I'd wanna be reborn as a woman...but, hey, gotta work with what ya got..."  
  
I feel the tears in my eyes almost before the emotion itself bursts within me.   
  
He's real.  
  
He's...he's real. And, so am I. And, if WE'RE real...then that means everyone else is, too...that they're here somewhere, that we can find them...great Suzaku...Hotohori-sama...  
  
Yeah, it's undignified. Yeah, it's not something I'd usually do...but...I rush forward, wrap my arms around those familiar shoulders, and hug Tasuki close. He squirms beneath my arms for a minute, reflexively, then at last accepts the embrace, lets me hold onto him for another moment before at last pushing me away.  
  
He grins, and even though they're not there, I see those fangs, that manic glint in his eyes, those thick tufts of orange-red hair dangling down over his eyes... "Oi, Nuriko," he says, taking a step back and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. "If we're rememberin' all this stuff...it's gotta mean that they need us for somethin', ya know? Which has gotta mean that--"  
  
I nod. "That the others have their memories back, too."  
  
"Right. We gotta find 'em somehow."  
  
I nod again, rest one hand against my waist as I think...they could be anywhere in the world, of course...I mean, just because Tasuki and I ended up fairly close doesn't mean everyone else did, too...gods, how can we even begin the search? How would we know where to look, what to look for...how would we even know them when we found them?   
  
"Uh...uh...um...ex...excuse me..."  
  
I turn, eyes widening, and feel my mouth drop open. Whooooops... My mother stands stock-still on the other side of the garage, eyes large and staring, looking vaguely sick and like she's about to fall over...then, abruptly, her eyes harden, and she raises a finger, points it at me accusingly. "I've got it, now," she says, nodding knowingly. "You're BOTH gay, right?"  
  
"GAAAAAAY?" Tasuki exclaims, taking a long step back and looking horrified. "I ain't no @#(*&@# okama!"  
  
I press a hand against my forehead, shake it slowly. Gods...this is going to be weirder than I thought... 


	6. I'm Him? - 6

"I'm Him?" - continued from 5  
  
---  
  
PART VIII: Explanations  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
I glance warily at my mother, struggle for a moment as I try vainly to think of something to say...and, then, abruptly, the door to the garage swishes open, cutting me off before I even manage to work a sound from my mouth. I turn, frowning, in the direction of the door, my eyes moving with a wary kind of slowness I'd imagine can only come about after sixteen or so shocks in one day...and, that's when I hear the sound of a high-pitched shriek, followed almost immediately by the clatter of booted feet against the smooth floor of the garage.  
  
I turn, confused, towards the sound of the shriek...just in time to watch Tasuki back into the nearby wall, tessen held out and ready in his hands. What the...  
  
"OLD...OLD BAG!" he shrieks, pointing wildly with the tessen and trying vainly to scramble up the side of the wall.   
  
Again, I swing my head back, take a moment to study the figure standing casually in the doorway...and feel the blood drain from my face. Good...gods... "G...GRANDMA??"  
  
The grey curls of my grandmother's hair lie in familiar folds on the top of her head, and she's clad in a typical sweater covered in small bears...but, there's no mistaking it. Now that the memories have returned, now that the person within me who was Nuriko has come back into the light...there's no mistaking that this is Taiitsu-kun standing before me. Taiitsu-kun. The old bag. MY grandmother...I suddenly feel a bit lightheaded, lean against the nearby wall...  
  
Taiitsu-kun casts Tasuki a dark look, sniffs briefly. "Be careful, Tasuki," she announces, eyes closed as if concentrating deeply on her own words. "Saying things like that are what got you reborn into the form of a woman in the first place."  
  
My mother takes a long step away from the wall, stares at the newcomer with wide, confused eyes. Her mouth works for a long moment without sound before she at last manages to speak. "I...I...Mom?? What...what're you doing here? And...and, why did you call Katherine that strange name...and...and why..." Her face hardens. "Someone, please, tell me what's going on!"  
  
I offer a weak grin, take a step towards my mother. "Well, you see...uh...we're kind of...um...well, there's this anime, and--"  
  
Taiitsu-kun raises a withered hand, silences me. "It's all right, Nuriko. I will explain." She sniffs, clears her throat lightly, and moves forward so she stands just before my mother. "Ah-ah-hem. Long ago, there was a world which existed alongside of this one, a world with four gods. Each god protected his own country, and could grant his people their hearts' desires through the intercession of a girl from THIS world--a miko. To protect the miko, each of the four countries possessed seven seishi, or celestial warriors. Each seishi had on some portion of his body a symbol, which existed both to increase his strength and to show the world of his duty to protect the miko. Your so--daughter, Riley, is the reincarnation of one of those seishi, as is her friend."  
  
Mom folds her arms over her chest, studies the old woman with suspicious, narrowed eyes. "Mom...is this a joke?"  
  
I reach down, slip a hand beneath the pile of boxes, and heft it effortlessly into the air. "If it were," I say dryly, "could I do this?"  
  
Taiitsu-kun offers me a thin, brief smile, then turns back to my mother, folds her hands in front of her in her "wise old woman" posture. "In this world, almost ten years ago, two girls went into the other world as mikos--"  
  
Tasuki, who had been sliding cautiously forward as the conversation continued, nodded, tapped his tessen against the palm of his left hand. "Miaka and Yui," he supplied, grinning.  
  
Taiitsu-kun glared. "No. Miaka and YUU."  
  
I turn back to the woman I until recently knew as my grandmother in shock. "Yuu??" I echo. "Yuu...Yuu WATASE?"  
  
Tasuki grins. "Ha! KNEW IT! KNEW IT KNEW IT KNEW IT!"  
  
"AS I WAS SAYING," Taiitsu-kun continues with an irritated "harrumph," pressing her hands together and returning her attention to my mother, "ten years ago, two girls went into the other world as mikos, and the gods Seiryuu, Suzaku, and Genbu were called. Those girls returned to this world, then, and time passed--faster in the other world, of course. Eventually, the last god, Byakko, was called. Byakko no Miko's third and final wish was for the other world to be completely destroyed, and for all residents of it--seishi or otherwise--to, instead, be reborn into THIS world. Her wish was granted, and the world of the four gods was destroyed."  
  
My eyes widen. "Destroyed?"  
  
"Hai. Destroyed." Her eyes sparkle, briefly. "But, all who existed there exist here now, and many of them are a great deal happier than they ever would've been had they remained in their home world." Taiitsu-kun clears her throat, glances briefly down at her feet--planted firmly on the ground--and scowls. "Whatevvver the case," she continues with another harrumph, "you, Nuriko, and you, Tasuki, are the only ones among the Suzaku seishi who have managed to get their memories back. You must find the others, bring them together, and help them to regain their memories of the past. To assist you, Yuu-sama and I created the anime you know as Fushigi Yuugi. It is not," she adds with a growl, "in existence for entertainment value, despite what Yuu seems to think." Taiitsu-kun grumbles, glares briefly at the blank air before her face. "We only needed a tool to help the seishi to regain their memories, but Yuu...stupid, greedy girl...should've never relied on her...but, Miaka...she would've butchered the series...no sense of art or drama at all..."   
  
Abruptly, the old woman breaks off, shakes her head, and seems to return to herself. "Regardless," she continues grandly, "it is up to you two, now. I'll do my best to locate the other seishi as well, but your bond with them is far deeper than mine." A withered finger rises, points itself at Tasuki and me. "You two were drawn together in this world because of the depths of your bond as seishi, and so the others will be drawn to each other as well. To assist you in your search, I have for you--"  
  
Tasuki holds out his hands eagerly. "A magic mirror? A magic scroll?"  
  
Taiitsu-kun shakes her head, murmurs a few words I don't understand. "No. To assist you, I have...this."   
  
And, suddenly, something heavy and furry drops into my hands, brushes against the weight of my bracelets, tickles my skin... My mouth drops open. "A...a CAT?"  
  
Taiitsu-kun nods. "Hai. I told you, all those living in the other world were reborn into this one...even the animals. This is Mitsukake's cat, Tama. He has the ability to pick up on the whereabouts of the shichiseishi through some sort of inner radar...I'm really not sure how it works, except to say that the god Suzaku looks favorably upon this one." She winks, and Tama, curled up in my hands, lets out an enthusiastic, "Mreowww," leaps down onto the garage floor and begins to chase after a small rubber ball Ted left lying in the corner...  
  
"So...uh..." Tasuki takes a long, wary step forward, the tessen resting lightly over one shoulder. "How d'we know where to start lookin'?"  
  
Taiitsu-kun shrugs, looks unconcerned. "Beats me. You are Suzaku shichiseishi. You'll think of something."  
  
She turns, then, begins to walk back towards the garage door...but, I rush forward, hold out a stopping hand, press it lightly against her shoulder. "Uh...Taiitsu-kun..."  
  
"Hai, Nuriko?"  
  
"Um...well..." I let out a short snicker. "I guess we won't be stopping by for our weekly visit on Saturday, huh? No more chocolate chip cookies? No more ravioli and hard boiled egg sandwiches?"  
  
She smiles, softly, a new, warming kindness creeping into her eyes. "Nuriko. This is a world of bodies and minds. In body, I am your grandmother and you are an eighteen-year-old girl--my granddaughter. But, in mind...in SOUL..." Her eyes close. "In soul, I am Taiitsu-kun and you are Chou Ryuen, the Suzaku shichiseishi Nuriko. You ARE male...even if this body says differently. You chose to be in this body, Nuriko. You chose to become the woman you wanted so badly to be in the other world." She smiles. "I don't know the locations of most of the seishi, but I do know this--the one you know as Hotohori-sama is very nearby...and, now that you ARE a woman..." Warm hands press against my shoulders, and for a long moment, Taiitsu-kun and the woman I've known for so long as my grandmother are one and the same, both smiling out at me, both holding tightly onto my shoulders. "Hotohori-sama will find himself out of excuses," she concludes softly.  
  
Then, she turns, pushes open the garage door, and vanishes into the kitchen. The door slams quietly shut behind her.  
  
---  



	7. I'm Him - 7

"I'm Him?" - continued from 6  
  
---  
  
PART IX: I'm Still Me  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
For a long moment...there is silence.  
  
"Old bag," Tasuki mutters at last, frowning down at the kitten flitting happily across the garage floor. "Probably @#($*&$ knows exactly where all the other seishi are..."  
  
I turn reflexively towards him, a slight smile touching my lips...but, as I do, I catch a glimpse of my mother. She's leaning heavily against the wall of the garage, trembling and looking as if she's about to throw up. I take a hesitant step towards her, offer a tentative, "Mom?"...but, she sidles away from me, darts around the edge of the shelf and hurries to the nearby kitchen door. For a long moment she stands there, frozen in time and place, one hand resting lightly against the doorknob as the other hangs limply at her side...then, finally, she shakes her head, gazes up at me with wide, pained eyes.  
  
"If...if you're...someone else," she manages after a brief pause, dark eyes glistening in the dim garage light. Her voice breaks. "Then, where's my daughter??"  
  
An icy jab of anguish slices through me with her words, and I take another step towards her, stretch my arm out vainly as if to call her back. "M...Mom," I plead...but, she shakes her head, brushes at the sudden wetness in her eyes...and vanishes into the kitchen. The harsh gasping of her sobs rips through the air a moment later, and I stagger, lean against the nearby wall for support. After a few moments, I hear the thud-thud-thud of those small canvas shoes retreating across the kitchen...and, then there's the slam of a door...and, all is quiet again.  
  
"I'm still me," I murmur brokenly...belatedly. "I'm still...me."  
  
Why can't she see it? Why can't she look at me and know that I'm still the same...that even if I have the memories of Nuriko within me...that, I'm still me inside? I'm still me on the OUTSIDE, too, for goodness' sake... Can't she see?   
  
I start, feeling a strong hand on my shoulder. I glance back, sigh lightly as Tasuki opens his mouth to say something. "It's all right," I interject softly, guessing the intentions of his words. "She just needs...some time, I think." My eyes close. "I think I do, too."  
  
We stand there in silence for a long moment, staring at the smooth grey plastic of the closed garage door...but, after awhile, I feel the weight of his gaze pressing against me, studying me... Finally, I open my eyes, let out another soft sigh. "What is it, Tasuki?"  
  
He takes a short step back, frowns at me from beneath a thick frame of fiery bangs. I sense rather than see him shake his head. "It's...it's @#$(*& weird, man. I mean...I KNOW you're Nuriko. Like, you kinda talk like 'im...and, I mean, the way you're standin' there...you kinda look like 'im..." He trails off, and as I turn I notice the frown deepen. "But...you're not HIM, yet. Not really."  
  
My lips twist downward in confusion. "Huh?"  
  
Tasuki lets out an exasperated sigh. "Damn, man, I'm not good at explainin' stuff like this..." Another soft sigh. "Okay. It's like...the second I knew that I was me...I BECAME me. It's not just that I remember all the stuff we did in the other world or that I can make fire come outta this damn tessen...it's that I really AM Tasuki. I mean, I'm sure Kats is still in here somewhere...but, she ain't here right NOW, ya know?" His eyes narrow. "But, you? I can't tell whether you're Riley or Nuriko or both, ya know? It's @#($*& weird."  
  
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as if for emphasis. "No. It's not...it's not that I'm one or the other, Tasuki...I AM both! Can't you see? I AM Nuriko...but, I'm ALSO Riley." I sigh heavily, sink to the ground and press my hand over my face. "Gods, this isn't right...it isn't fair. If I give up Riley..." I shake my head. "...then, I let down my mom. But, if I give up Nuriko...then, gods, I let down everyone else."  
  
Again I feel the weight of that fiery-eyed stare. "No offense, Nuriko...but, this ain't exactly the best time to be dealin' with this... We gotta find the rest of the seishi, get things together so we can do whatever the hell it is Taiitsu-kun needs us to..."  
  
A soft "mreow" from the floor punctuates the sentence, draws me from my thoughts. I let out a soft sigh. "All right," I murmur. Rising slowly to my feet, I take a second to brush the dirt from my shorts, spend a long moment fighting back the sudden conflict rippling within me. Somehow...it doesn't seem fair.  
  
//One or the other,\\ I entreat silently. //Why can't I just be one or the other??\\  
  
And, then...suddenly...something changes.  
  
Everything is just the same--I'm standing, facing the kitchen door, Tasuki is slouching just behind me...and, then, suddenly, there's a soft scuffling sound from behind us...we turn, and I abruptly remember that Ted has been standing silently in the corner the entire time, watching, listening. But... The breath catches in my lungs.   
  
But, this isn't Ted.  
  
Well...it IS... But, it's not. He walks toward us with a strange, uncanny grace, a fluid kind of swiftness...and, a moment later, he stands before me, still not speaking, looking just as he always has except for... My heart seems to freeze in my chest. Except for that smile. That smile...gods...I...I know that smile...  
  
"Niisama," he whispers.  
  
Tasuki's eyes bulge, and I hear him sputtering for words behind me, but I barely notice...no, I don't notice at all, because my whole attention, my whole mind and body and soul...it's all focused on her, on the ghost of that soft brown hair...on the shimmer of tears in her eyes...because, it's really her. It's really...really...her.  
  
I shake my head, weak from the impact of this latest revelation, barely able to move, speak, breathe...because, she's alive. Blessed Suzaku...she's alive! And, she's been here all along! Gods... "Kourin," I managed, tears trickling silently over my cheeks. "Kourin...I...how...?" I shake my head wordlessly, rush forward and grab her slim frame into a tight, firm embrace. Those thin arms wrap around me a moment later, and I feel the soft tingle of her smoothing back my hair, the warm touch of her breath on my neck.   
  
"Niisama," she repeats with that same soft, secretive smile. She smooths my hair again, very gently. "I had to come with you, didn't I? To make sure you were safe...and, to make sure you were happy."  
  
I shake my head, tugging her closer, and nestle my face in a soft tuft of that thick, flowing brown hair...just like my own. Gods, she's here...she's alive...! "Baka," I whisper, smiling through the tears. "Of course I'm happy. You're here, aren't you?"  
  
"Hai, Niisama..." Her voice turns firm, and she pushes me gently out of her embrace, gazed at me sternly. "Demo, you have to stop relying on others for your own happiness, ne? Stop living for everyone else! Stop living for me, stop living for..." She pauses, smiles slightly. "...for Mom...stop living for Miaka and the other seishi. What about YOU? What about Ryuen? Where is he in all this?" She shakes her head, and her voice is barely above a whisper, harsh and taut with the anguish of ages. "You've lost yourself, Niisama. That's why you don't know who you are. That's why you can't figure out if you're Riley or Nuriko or neither or both."  
  
"But..." The tears sting my eyes. "But, who AM I? How can I do anything without knowing that?"  
  
The smile touches her lips again. "You already know, don't you? You're not either or both or neither...because, there's no difference...is there, Niisama? Ryuen...Riley...Nuriko...they are ALL you. You don't need to choose one because there's no difference between them! They're just NAMES. Names don't make you who you are." Her smile turns slightly wistful. "And, neither do bodies."  
  
I open my mouth to protest again...but one of those slim fingers presses against my lips, silences me before I can even work enough sound to my vocal chords to speak. "No," she says quietly. "I don't have much time. Unlike you...Ted is never meant to remember our lives in the other world. So, listen...onegai. Just listen." She pauses, waiting as I nod, then smiles again, plunges onward. "All Taiitsu-kun told you is true. But...she left out one thing, Niisama." Her voice darkens. "Something evil is moving in the world. Since all creatures were brought here from the other world after the last wish...the Seiryuu shichiseishi are here, too. Most of them don't know who they are yet...but one...the one you know as Nakago. He knows. He remembers. I'm not sure...but I think that's at least part of why Taiitsu-kun is bringing the seishi together again...to get ready for whatever it is that Nakago's planning. It might be more than that...but, I know that that's at least part of it."  
  
"Please," I plead, clasping tightly onto that slim arm and hugging it to my chest. "Please, Kourin...can you tell me anything about where to find the other seishi?"  
  
Her eyes are soft and pained. "Gomen nasai, Niisama. I don't know much...but, I can tell you at least where you can find ONE of the seishi. The nearest one."  
  
Something pangs in my heart. "Hotohori-sama," I whisper.  
  
"Hai. There's a shop, a few miles away from here...you'll know it when you see it. You should find Hotohori there...but, you have to hurry, Niisama. Once you find him, he should be able to help you find the others...and, the cat should help you, as well." She takes a short step back from me, stretches her arms gently out to the side. "Sayonara," she whispers. "Onegai...don't lose, Niisama...if you do...there's no going back this time."  
  
And, then there's a flash of soft white light...and, I know that she's gone.  
  
Ted blinks, looking around as if trying to figure out just where he is... Finally, he turns, notices Tasuki and I watching him...and frowns, casting me a dark glare. "Riley, what're you looking at? Where's Mom?" He glances frantically around the garage for another moment...then pauses, and the frown deepens. "Was...was Grandma here??"  
  
I can only shake my head, glance back at Tasuki, and walk to the back door, ignoring his questions...because I can't answer them...nor do I want to. A few moments later, the two of us are climbing into the stuffy confines of Kats' car, me plopping down in the driver's seat as Tasuki seems to be a bit removed from the real world... As I climb in, however, something strikes me, and I pause.  
  
"Wait a sec," I say suddenly. "I'll be right back."  
  
Several minutes later, I thud down the stairs and step out onto the porch, the soft, surprisingly-comfortable blue and gold fabric hanging lightly from my shoulders. It's just as I remember it, with the high, stiff collar, the thin strands of decorative gold scattered in various places down the torso. I glance down briefly, noticing the fabric bunching loosely at my belt...and come to an abrupt halt at the edge of the porch, staring down at myself in shock.   
  
"G...G...G...GOOD GOD!" I shriek at last.  
  
Tasuki, having finally managed to force the top down on Kats' silver convertible, stands up on his seat, gapes at me for a long moment. "N...Nuriko!" he exclaims. "D...DAMN, man...you're a..."  
  
I nod with a bit of alarm, pressing an experimental hand over the sudden, eerie flatness of my chest. "A guy!" I finish.   
  
Tasuki sits down heavily in the seat, spends a long moment glaring down at the telltale lumps on his own chest. "DAAAAAAMN it," he whines. "Why the hell am *I* still a girl??"  
  
I flash the bandit a brief grin, jogging quickly to the car with my long, dark braid bouncing cheerfully along with me. A moment later, I'm firmly buckled into the driver's seat, one arm resting comfortably on the edge of the window, the other turning the key deftly in its slot. We sit there for a long moment, the engine rumbling contentedly beneath us...then I turn, shrug slightly. "Maybe you have to put the outfit on first," I offer. "After all," I add warily, glancing nervously at myself again, "I wasn't like this a few minutes ago...I'm SURE of that..."  
  
Tasuki's lips spread into a decidedly-wicked grin. "Oi, Nuriko...just, uh...how much of a guy ARE you? I mean...you got the whole package there, or..."  
  
I feel my cheeks flushing and decide, wisely, not to answer. A moment later I press my foot onto the accelerator, back the car carefully out of the driveway...and, then we're off.  
  
A slight, nervous tingle shivers up my spine. Off to find Hotohori-sama...and, then the other seishi.  
  
I frown slightly with the thought, remembering Taiitsu-kun's words.  
  
/Now that you're a woman...Hotohori-sama will find himself out of excuses...\   
  
Does that mean... I trail off the thought, shake my head firmly. No. Now isn't the time for this. Now...now, we have to concentrate on finding the other seishi...on figuring out just what's going on so we can stop it... My jaw clenches. I can worry about Hotohori-sama later.  
  
Besides, I add silently with a brief flash of hope. Maybe...maybe if I take this outfit off...I'll be a girl again.  
  
Maybe.  
  
--- 


	8. I'm Him? - 8

"I'm Him?" - continued from 7  
  
---  
  
PART X: Fight  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
  
We've been driving around for what feels like forever.  
  
"No offense, Nuriko," Tasuki chimes in wearily after our sixth time circling the block, "but, that sister of yours sure gives @(*#$&$ bad directions..."  
  
I consider, for a moment, giving the fiery-haired seishi a good smack on the side of the head...but, decide against it--particularly since we're in a moving vehicle. And...well, it would be kind of hard to explain to Kats just why there's a Tasuki-sized hole in her car door... I pause as the thought trails off, feel my lips twisting downwards into a frown. Where IS Kats, anyway? Why isn't it the same for her as it is for me? Why can't she be Tasuki AND herself at the same time...?  
  
"Oi, Nuriko!!"  
  
The alarm in Tasuki's voice rips me from my thoughts, and I start, reflexively slamming on the brakes. "What??"  
  
Tasuki shakes his head furiously, clawing at my arm. "No, you @#*@#$(& idiot!" he shrieks. "Don't stop--go! GO!"  
  
Puzzled and still glancing around frantically, trying to figure out just what's gotten him so upset, I slam my foot onto the gas, send us ripping forward into traffic. Angry car horns explode all around us, but something in the ragged, panicked tone of his voice warns me not to slow down...so, I don't. I press my foot down harder on the pedal and send us hurtling down the street, swerving in and out of traffic and coming very close to slamming into a few signposts and telephone poles as we go.   
  
Once we've been driving for a few moments, I turn back to Tasuki for an instant, lift a questioning eyebrow. "What is it?" I try again...but, the words are barely out of my mouth before I feel the icy sensation of something passing very close to the top of my head. I gasp, ducking reflexively...and am just in time to watch a softball-sized chi blast soar past the edge of the car, smash a nearby bench into a fiery mass of broken boards and flames and dust.  
  
"That's what I was tryin' to tell ya!" Tasuki exclaims, twisting so he can peer a bit nervously over the backseat. "It's him! That...that damned @#(*$&#@$ blond asshole!"  
  
My heart seems to freeze in my chest. "N...Nakago?" I whisper. Suddenly very aware of my own trembling limbs, I stretch up my hand, grab onto the mirror just above my head. I turn it, just a bit...and, there he is. He's leaning casually against the side of a phone booth far behind us, looking smug and pleased in a loose-fitting white shirt and jeans, long blond hair hanging in silken ribbons about his face and shoulders. He stares after us for a long moment, those cool blue eyes seemingly fixed on my own in the mirror...and then, smiling thinly, he straightens, turns, and walks back in the other direction, moving towards...  
  
I slam my foot down hard on the brakes. Tasuki lets out a high-pitched yelp, nearly losing his grip on his tessen as we slide to an abrupt halt in the center of the street.   
  
"Nuriko, what the @#(*& are you--"  
  
I twist the car into reverse, send us flying backwards and nearly up onto the edge of the nearby sidewalk...then, breathing quickly and feeling my heart pounding fiercely in my chest, I shove the stick back into drive, press down hard on the accelerator again. We soar over the smooth pavement, the speedometer hiking wearily up to eighty-five, then at last return to the stretch of road we were at a few minutes ago, just next to the phone booth Nakago had been leaning against.   
  
I glance at my companion, realize he looks a little green from all the sudden stops and starts...but, there's no time to make sure he's all right. No...no time...no time...! My pulse racing, my fingers trembling so badly I can barely keep hold of the steering wheel, I bring us to a full stop at the edge of the road, leap out of the driver's seat without even bothering to switch off the ignition.  
  
"Nuriko?" Tasuki calls after me, rising up to his feet and staring after me as I begin to run. "Nuriko, what the @#($*& are you doing!?!"  
  
"He's going after Hotohori!" I shout back...but, I can't tell if my words reach him...nor do I care. All I know is that Hotohori is in terrible danger, and that if I don't find him first...then, he's going to die.  
  
I glance around frantically as I run, taking in the various shops, restaurants, and coffee shops littering the streets...and feel a new hopelessness surge over me. Gods, how am I going to find him? Kourin...Kourin, you said I'd know! You said I'd be able to find him...that I'd know the shop as soon as I saw it... I turn full-circle, staring with wide eyes at the impossible number of stores and businesses. Nothing leaps out at me...gods, I don't know where he is...I won't be able to find him in time, and he'll die...he'll die...!  
  
A cool wind washes over me all of a sudden, makes me pause. I come to an unsteady halt in the center of the sidewalk, retreat into the shadow forged between the side of one building and the next...and lean my back against the wall. And, as I lean there, gasping and choking on the tears building my throat...I can practically hear her voice in my ears.  
  
//Niisama...it'll be all right. You'll find him...I know you'll find him...just, calm down. Please, Niisama...you've got to calm down, focus...you'll find him...I know you will...\\  
  
A soft sheen of frustrated tears springs to my eyes, and I snap them shut, press my fingers tightly over my eyelids. Struggling to calm down, I take long, deep breaths, try to force every muscle in my body to relax...I have to make my mind stop spinning in such wild circles, have to make my heart to stop pounding so furiously in my chest...yes. Slow, deep breaths...calm... Yes...it's all right...it'll be all right... I draw in another long, deep breath, let it out slowly through my nostrils. I ease the pressure of my fingers from my eyes, but keep them closed...breathe deeply...focus on the soft rush of air sweeping up and down my windpipe, and in and out of my nostrils...  
  
And then, suddenly, there's a flash of crimson against the thick darkness of my vision. I draw in a sharp breath, startled...and wait for it to happen again. A moment later, it does. Darkness...darkness...then, a flash. Red...crimson...Suzaku? Is he...is he leading me? The flash springs onto the backs of my eyelids, fills me for a moment with a soft, soothing warmth...like strong arms around my shoulders...they drain the tension from my muscles, drag the determination and the hope and the conviction back into my mind.   
  
I straighten, eyes flickering open, and stare out into the world. The air is cool and soft and fresh, fragrant with the gentle scent of pines and dirt and flowers...  
  
I freeze. Flowers...  
  
  
A sudden memory rips through my mind--it's nighttime...a thick, soothing darkness has fallen over the palace grounds, blanketing it in a velvety mass of dark shadows...the perfect place to hide a crossdressing seishi out for a walk. I move silently across the palace walkway, down onto the lawn...and, then cross to the nearby solace of the imperial gardens, ducking beneath the slim branch of a willow tree to reach the main path. The fragments of the nightmares still linger in my mind, and I know that if I don't tire myself out enough through this late-night walk, I'll never be able to get back to sleep...never be able to make it through until morning... So, I walk. But, as I move, I gradually become aware of the soft, rising sound of someone humming from farther ahead...it's a soft, low melody, trickling quietly through the silence of the night...but, it's beautiful...sorrowful...perfect. Not wanting to expose myself but terribly curious to find just who could be humming such a low, mournful tune, I slip forward, duck behind a marble statue and peer into the clearing ahead.  
  
And there, sitting contentedly among a literal flood of colorful, fragrant flowers, is Hotohori-sama. His slender form rests comfortably on a smooth, flat grey stone, but his legs dangle down among the flowers...his slim, bare feet press gently into the soft black soil...  
  
  
I snap from the memory, spend a long moment standing frozen in the center of the sidewalk, breathing heavily and struggling to regain the will to move...then, finally, the strength floods back into my limbs, and I break into a sprint. Yes...yes, I remember now...just down the street, turn the corner, go past the post office...and, there I would see a small, carefully-chiseled brown sign. Thick black words clung to the wood, proclaiming the title "Lily's Lilies" to the world...  
  
Yes! That's it! The tears sting in my eyes, tears of joy and thanks...and, I don't bother to fight them, or to even waste the energy of wiping them away...because, Nakago has a head start, doesn't he? And, if he knows exactly where to find Hotohori...  
  
A lump forms in my throat.   
  
Then even if I now know where the young emperor is...I'll still be too late...unless I hurry.   
  
Impossibly, I feel a new burst of strength in the muscles of my legs, sprint forward even more quickly. I brush past men and women and children and pets on leashes, nearly crash into a telephone booth once and a small wooden bench a few moments later...but then, finally, I catch a whiff of lilac on the passing breeze, a glimpse of green and violet and white...gods, there it is! The breath rasping heavily in and out of my lungs, my legs burning agonizingly from the constant, unyielding heaviness of my steps, I rush forward, finally manage to come to a halt just beside that slim wooden sign.  
  
"Lily's Lilies," I whisper. Something warm and RIGHT tingles in the back of my spine, fills me with hope and an immense, bubbling gratitude. Yes. This is it. I can feel it...and, I can feel HIM.  
  
Shaking with reaction, exhaustion, fear, and relief, I take a few wobbly steps forward, tug open the door, and step inside the shop. The tiny tinkle of a bell signals my entrance, and a cool wash of air conditioned air sweeps over me, cools the sweat on my flesh to ice. Shivering, sweating, and still trembling, I stumble forward...and glance around the seemingly-empty shop with a bit of nervous anxiety. No one's in sight...but, the shop itself seems to be in order. There are numerous shelves and tables of a thin, moldable metal, on which sit various kinds of plants and flowers--most of them are potted and small, but in one corner of the room, a thick section of the ground has been dug up, and a small bush of lilacs grows straight up through the floor, filling the room with the sweet, mingled fragrance of too many plants grown in too close proximity. It reminds me, helplessly, of the Imperial Gardens...and, I know that if I just close my eyes and breathe...the image will be perfect.  
  
But, I don't have time for that...not now...not when I'm so close...! I take a few hesitant steps forward, try to peer into the back room but find the door tightly closed. "Is anyone here?" I call tentatively.  
  
There's a rustling from that closed-off back room, and I'm just moving forward to meet whoever it is who's coming out when suddenly, the door behind me slams open, and I spin, twisting into an automatic fighting stance even before the figure comes into focus...   
  
It's Nakago.  
  
"You," I hiss. "You bastard."  
  
The blond shogun takes a long step into the flower shop, those thin lips twisted slightly upwards into a thin, smug smile, looking oddly-normal and harmless without his customary armor...but, I know, of course, that he's far from harmless. I know that he's just as dangerous as ever...and, that in just a moment, I'm going to get to experience firsthand just how deadly this man is.  
  
I focus my energy, briefly, feel the familiar hiss and snap of Taiitsu-kun's bracelets expanding on my wrists, hardening to iron, filling me with power...but, of course I know that it won't be enough. This is Nakago...the man who killed Hotohori...theman who would've surely won against Tamahome and all our joined powers if his own powers hadn't been sealed.  
  
What kind of a chance does a 110-pound crossdresser have against someone like that?  
  
I lower myself into a firmer fighting stance, vaguely aware of someone opening the back room's door, stepping out into the shop...but, there's no time to focus on that now...no time to do anything but concentrate on the coming fight, on staying alive at least long enough to get Hotohori out of here and to safety...   
  
"Come on, you bastard," I growl, tensing my muscles, readying myself for the impact of the first blow.  
  
Nakago smiles slightly. "Suzaku shichiseishi Nuriko," he murmurs. He takes another small step forward, reaches forward as if to touch the silken brown of my hair...but, I jerk away, slam my fist forward and land a hard punch in the center of his chest.   
  
The punch has the desired effect--Nakago flies backwards, slamming hard into the door before managing to recover from the hit. He staggers for a moment, then straightens again, smiles out at me with that same thin, haunting smile.   
  
"So," he says slowly, circling me like a cat. "It seems the Suzaku seishi are getting their powers back as well..." His blue eyes flicker, briefly, with a cool inner fire. "How touching."  
  
There's the sound of scuffling feet from the counter behind us, and I hear a muffled gasp, the clatter of what sounds like a jar of pencils scattering onto the floor. "W...What's going on here?" a deep voice demands. "Who are you people? What are you doing??"  
  
The breath freezes in my lungs. Eyes wide, I turn, the world seemingly going in slow motion...and come face to face with soft, rich amber eyes, a mane of flowing chestnut hair...and the smooth, expertly-chiseled features that can only belong to one man.  
  
"Hotohori-sama," I whisper, watching as something like recognition floods into those soft amber eyes...  
  
And, that's when Nakago strikes. 


	9. I'm Him? - 9

"I'm Him?" - continued from 8  
  
---  
  
PART XI: Death  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
I hear the rustle of cloth behind me, belatedly realize my mistake in turning my back on the blond shogun...but, by the time I manage to twist back to face him, it's too late. I catch a glimpse of flowing white and a flicker of silken blond hair, and then a fist slams into my jaw, sends me flying helplessly to the side, my face exploding with pain. I slam facedown onto the floor, lie sprawled there for a long moment, and struggle to work past the pain, to find the will to breathe again...  
  
//This isn't that bad...this is nothing compared to what happened with Ashitare...this is nothing! Get up! Get up, or Hotohori's gonna die!\\  
  
Gritting my teeth against the hot, fiery agony ripping through my face and jaw, I somehow manage to get my hands under me and push myself back into a standing position. Nakago waits patiently as I drop into a fighting stance, the thick bands of metal strapped across my forearms glowing a faint crimson. I reach up a finger, brush away the thin trail of blood trickling down my chin, and prepare myself for the worst.  
  
Because...he hasn't even started using his powers yet, has he? This is all just physical fighting...  
  
Something hard and icy settles into my stomach. //He's just...playing with me...isn't he?\\  
  
A burning, unspeakable rage begins to build within me at the thought...and, at the memories of all this man once did to the ones I cared about. The first of many sins against us was when he tricked Miaka's friend into becoming Seiryuu no Miko, lied to her to bring her to his side. So much of our pain came about just because of that one betrayal, because of that one, careful manipulation...Tamahome's family...Tasuki's injuries...Miaka's near-suicide...Chiriko's death at his own small hands... And, me--he'd caused my death, too, with his savage treatment of Ashitare.   
  
And, then...there was Hotohori-sama. Hotohori, who he'd run through with his own blade. Hotohori...married for so short a time, a son on the way...this man did that to him. This man destroyed all that was ever good in our lives, turned the world into a fiery hell of death and pain and destruction...  
  
This man nearly destroyed us all.  
  
As the thoughts fade from my mind...I feel something snap within me, something I'm helpless to control, helpless to stop. Letting out a near-primal cry of rage and hatred and desperation, I lunge forward, pulling back my fist as I move, and slam my knuckles into Nakago's face with all the strength left in my body. He'd been turning towards Hotohori, inching his way towards the confused young seishi as I recovered...but now, he reels backwards, clutching at his nose as it gushes a thick, heavy stream of scarlet down over his lips, over his chin. And, despite the grisly sight, I feel a brief twinge of grim satisfaction.   
  
I hurt him. And, even if I do nothing more...even if the bastard stretches out his arm and kills me right now...at least I did that much.  
  
"For Miaka," I hiss, towering over the fallen shogun for one long, triumphant moment. "And, for Hotohori-sama."  
  
And, then, Nakago climbs to his feet, wiping a generous collection of blood onto the soft white of his sleeve...and lifts a hand. I stand there, firm and unmoving, as the air above the hand begins to flicker a soft blue...as a thin, wavering ball of bluish light begins to form above the deceptively-soft skin...  
  
"Striking me," says Nakago in a low, mildly-angered voice, "is never a wise decision." Those lips flick upwards, flash me that thin, smug smile. "You'll soon see why."  
  
"STOP!"  
  
I snap my head around, startled...and, even Nakago pauses, frowning at the source of the sound. I feel my eyes widen, just slightly...because, it's Hotohori who spoke, Hotohori whose voice cut through the impending doom of my approaching death, let me live for just one moment more... He stands strongly in front of the counter and cash register, dark eyebrows pushed angrily downwards, lips twisted into a stern grimace.  
  
"Stop it!" he repeats in that loud, commanding voice. "Stop this at once!"  
  
His prey seemingly forgotten for a moment, Nakago turns, faces Hotohori with that taunting smile twisting at his lips. The glowing blue light of his chi still floats hypnotically over his palm. "The young emperor of Konan," he muses, bowing his head slightly as if in reverence. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find you..." The smile lifts eerily. "But, luckily, Nuriko led me right to you."  
  
A tremble of rage works its way through my body. "You...you bastard," I manage.  
  
Hotohori shakes his head, looking confused and angry...but not an ounce of fear dwells in those deep amber eyes. I wonder, for a moment, if he knows just what that small ball of light can do to a person...or if it's simply his own natural bravery shining through, paving the way for the eventual resurfacing of the man I've known and loved for so long... "What do you want with me?" he demands in that same low, gruff voice. "I've already called the police, so you'd better explain quickly."  
  
Nakago's face pales, just slightly...but, that thin, mocking smile never slips...even as another trickle of scarlet flows from his right nostil, paints a thin line of red over his lips and chin. "It's too bad you haven't regained your memories yet, Hotohori," he says, taking a short, measured step towards the broad-shouldered seishi. He pauses just in front of the other man, casts him a thin, ominous smile. "I would've liked for you to remember who I was, as I cut you down for the second time."  
  
"NO!" I shout, dashing forward as I realize just what Nakago plans...but, even as I lunge forward, I know I'll never make it. Hotohori's going to die...gods, he's going to die again...why not me?? Why can't he take me instead? Why...why...  
  
And then, abruptly, Nakago turns, sees me running towards him, and frowns slightly. "You're becoming a bother, Nuriko," he murmurs.   
  
I see those eyes closing briefly, those slim blond eyebrows furrowing in concentration...and, the next thing I know, that blue ball of light is surging towards me, burning a fiery path of sapphire and white through the air. With all my momentum pushing me forwards, towards Hotohori, I have no power to dodge out of the way...the only thing I can do is come to a slow, dragging stop...and wait.   
  
It hits me so hard that I can't breathe for a long moment after the impact--dimly, I hear the sizzle of burning cloth and flesh, and then a fiery pain erupts from my chest, sends me hurling backwards onto my back on the floor. The pain is unimaginable, searing out from the charred, blackened hole in my chest, rippling over every inch of my flesh until I wonder if death wouldn't be better... But, no...no, I have to protect Hotohori...I have to...I have to protect him...  
  
"NURIKO!"  
  
I freeze, shocked. He...he doesn't know who I am...but, he knows my name...he said my name...! "H...Hotohori," I manage, struggling to push myself up from the floor. One arm is pressed over the burning wound in my chest while the other shoves me upward, strains against the pain and the weakness, fights to get me back onto my feet... After a moment of the exertion, however, my strength gives out entirely, and I fall back onto my back, spend a long moment struggling to breathe against the searing pain...and the warm, heavy weight seeping into my lungs. I cough once, taste blood...and glance downward at my wound, touch tentatively at it with two shaking, blood-soaked fingers.  
  
The flesh is charred and blackened, but the hot crimson of my blood still soaks through, clinging to the tattered blue of my tunic, dripping into a quiet pool of dark, oozing scarlet on the smooth grey floor. I cough again, this time feel the warmth of the blood trickling over my lips, and notice the fiery glow of the yanagi on my chest, just above the wound...gods. It's...it's just like then, isn't it? Just like with Ashitare...in the other world... Except...   
  
A cold, icy despair works over me.   
  
Except this time, there'll be no Miaka to clutch my hand and tell me not to go...no Tamahome to hold me as I die. There'll be nothing but this cold, hard floor, the light fragrance of flowers and blood, and the anguished face of a man who doesn't even know me anymore.   
  
I'm going to die...and, no one is here to care. More importantly, no one is here to save Hotohori-sama...and, so he'll die, probably right after I do...and, it'll be all my fault. "Hotohori," I whisper, barely able to coax any more sound from my voice but knowing I have to try. "Hoto...hori...please...get out of here...get out of here NOW...!"  
  
But, he shakes his head, kneels down beside me and grabs onto my hand. "Nuriko," he says brokenly. "Nuriko...not again...please..."  
  
My eyes widen. "Y...you...remember?"  
  
He frowns slightly, seems to consider the question. "I don't know," he murmurs at last. "I don't remember much of anything...but...but, I remember you...Nuriko. I remember that you...you died."  
  
There's a rustle of clothing, the sound of two booted feet thudding quietly against the floor very nearby. "How heartwarming," comes a hard, taunting voice from above us. "A touching moment of farewell..."  
  
Weakly, I lift my head, stare into those cold, ice-blue eyes...and feel a dark, inexplicable loathing surging into my throat. "Ba...stard," I whisper.   
  
Nakago only stares down at me, lips twisting slightly, and lifts a hand. Another swirling ball of pale blue materializes over his palm, dances lightly from his fingertips for a long moment...  
  
"Hotohori, please..." I cough violently, feel the darkness tugging at the edges of my vision. "Hoto...onegai...get out..."  
  
But, Hotohori doesn't move. He stays silently at my side, staring boldly into those taunting blue eyes...and waits. Nakago smiles slightly, those hard, ice-blue eyes fixed mockingly on my own, and raises his hand--  
  
Something slams. "Lekka...SHIEEEEEN!"  
  
I catch a fleeting glimpse of a wall of fire surging across the room, knocking a startled Nakago violently backwards...but, the world darkens around me before I can get a clearer grip on things, makes even the sound of crackling fire, labored breathing, and the frantic calling of my own name...all fade away into nothingness.  
  
I fall into blackness...and lie still.  
  
---  



	10. I'm Him? - 10

"I'm Him?" - continued from 9  
  
PART XI: Death?  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
It's like I'm watching a movie...of my own death.  
  
Tasuki and Hotohori are leaning over my still, broken body, the fiery-haired bandit struggling vainly to stem the flow of blood.  
  
"I'll call an ambulance," Hotohori says evenly...but, I can hear the anxiety in his voice, the fear. It's because...because he knows I'm going to die. He knows it...just as I know it. The young emperor rises to his feet, looking strangely normal with his loose-fitting dress shirt and slacks, thick chestnut hair falling in soft waves over his shoulders. His hands and sleeves are stained with blood...my blood...but, he doesn't even seem to notice it. Carefully, he picks his way across the cracked, blackened floor, stretches up a slim hand, and grabs onto the phone. He holds it to his ear, reaches for the base...but stops, frowning...  
  
"Damn it," he swears softly. "It's dead. The fire...it must've--"  
  
"It doesn't @#(*$&@#$ matter!" Tasuki shouts, glancing frantically around the small shop as if hunting for inspiration among the charred flowers. "Damn it...damn-damn-damn it...you're not @#$(*&$ gonna do this to me again, Nuriko...you're not @#(*$ gonna do this again..."   
  
The warning hanging weakly from lips, Tasuki rises with some difficulty to his feet, leaves me lying cold and alone on the floor...and for a moment, all I can see is my own face, my own shattered body...my own flowing blood. I'm lying on my back on the floor, arms resting loosely at my sides, the weights of Taiitsu-kun's bracelets still clasped tightly on my wrists. There's a thick, angry mark of black and oozing red strewn messily across my chest--my flat, very male chest...and, the soft blue of my shirt is ripped and hanging loose from my shoulders, soaked thoroughly with a warm, wet crimson. My hair, a darker, thicker brown than Hotohori's, still lies plaited and folded into its typical braid...but, the ends are wet and sticky with blood, and faint wisps of hair hang loosely about my face, contrasting starkly with my smooth, pallid skin...gods. I'm dying...aren't I?  
  
"We gotta @#$*(&@#$ do somethin'," Tasuki exclaims, stalking angrily from one side of the room to the other. "This isn't @#($*&$ gonna happen again...it's NOT GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN!"   
  
Hotohori casts the red-haired bandit a look of pure anguish, shakes his head slowly. "But, what can we do?" he asks quietly. "What can we do? The bleeding--"  
  
Suddenly, the door slams open, cuts him off mid-sentence. "What's going on in here?" demands a deep, authoritative voice.  
  
Tasuki and Hotohori turn, eyes wide and hopeful, and stare at the darkened figure at the door. There's a short pause...and, then the figure steps forward, moves into the light and holds up a badge.  
  
"Nick Mansfield, City Police Department," he states evenly, glancing briefly from the two seishi to the charred line across the room to my own small, broken body. He's tall and broad-shouldered, towering even above Hotohori...and, his dark hair is short and cropped in an almost military style on his head, his eyes dark and narrowed as he surveys the scene. As his gaze falls onto me, however, his eyes soften...and he strides forward, kneels down beside me.  
  
All of a sudden, his eyes are wide and haunted. "There's something...something familiar..." He shakes his head firmly, trails off...but, the haunted look still lingers in his eyes. He turns back to Hotohori and Tasuki, casts a stern eye on them. "What happened here? The call we received said someone had broken into this shop and was posing a threat of some kind..." His eyes narrow. "Surely, this wasn't the man..."  
  
Hotohori shakes his head hurriedly. "No, no. The man..." He trails off, sighs softly. "The man got away. But...but, please, you have to call an ambulance. There isn't much time..."  
  
"You're damn right there ain't much time!" Tasuki cries, glaring angrily at the two taller men. "What the @#($*&$'s wrong with you two?! You gonna @#(*&@ let Nuriko die AGAIN, damn it!? DO SOMETHING!"  
  
Mansfield's eyes go wide...and his shoulders slump, his eyes close tightly. "A...Again," he whispers brokenly. "Last time...last time...I didn't...didn't get there in time...couldn't save him..."   
  
"Good God," Tasuki whispers. He lunges forward then, grabs the man by the shoulders and shakes him. "It's you!" he cries. "It's you...damn it, it's you! You gotta do somethin'! You gotta help him before it's too late!"  
  
Mansfield shakes his head sadly, his eyes squeezed tightly closed, a thin line of anguish streaking up through his brow. "I...I don't know how...I don't know what I can...what I can do..."  
  
"YES, YOU DO, DAMN IT!" the fiery-haired bandit shrieks, shaking the man again by his broad, thick shoulders. "DAMN YOU! DO IT!" He pauses, waits for a response...then, leaps to his feet in a wild rage, screams, "DO IT, MITSUKAKE, OR I'll NEVER @#(*&@#$ FORGIVE YOU!!"  
  
Those dark eyes fly open...and abruptly, a flicker of something like memory flashes into them, washes over that smooth, chiseled face. Mitsukake nods firmly, casts Tasuki a thankful look of reassurance, and presses his left hand firmly against my chest. Then, the world fills with a soft, vibrant glow of green light...and, I feel the pain shrinking back, the darkness being pulled from my vision, the suffocating warmth draining from my lungs...  
  
A surge of fresh, clean air rushes down my throat, makes me arch my back in sudden, violent ressurrection...and I feel the slowing timbre of my heartbeat speed up again, grow louder and heavier and stronger. The strength is rushing back to my muscles, the blood seeping back into my veins...I'm...I'm going to live...aren't I?   
  
I'm going to live.  
  
I'm going to...live.  
  
---  
  



	11. I'm Him? - 11

  
"I'm Him?" - continued from 10  
  
PART XII: Remembrance and Recovery  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Even my clothes are perfect again.  
  
My eyelashes flutter, and slowly, carefully...I open my eyes. The world around me is blurry for a moment, spreading like a bright, flashing canvas of colors and shapes before my vision...but, then the images coalesce into recognizable shapes...become faces... I lie there for a long moment in silence, focusing on the soft, relaxed tide of my breathing, on the cool, undamaged skin of my chest...then, I stare out at the three faces hovering above my own, feel a smile touching at my lips.  
  
"Hotohori-sama," I whisper. "Tasuki... Mitsukake."  
  
Hotohori lets out a heavy breath, lets his head droop for a moment. "Nuriko...thank God," he murmurs.   
  
The oldest of us smiles down at me, places a hand beneath my back to help me into a sitting position. "How do you feel?" Mitsukake asks gently.  
  
Before I can answer, though, Tasuki lets out a loud growl, leaps to his feet, and waves an angry finger down at me. "DAAAAAAAMN you, Nuriko!" he bellows. "That was @#($*&@#$ stupid! He almost @#(*$&$ killed you, damn it! He almost @(#*$&@$ KILLED you!"  
  
I close my eyes briefly, remembering the bright blue flash of Nakago's chi blast, searing through my flesh...burning through skin and muscle and... I sigh softly, bringing a hand to the smooth fabric of the tunic as if to double-check my survival. "Ne...how did you manage to fight him off, anyway?" I ask quietly, well aware of Tasuki still glaring rabidly down at me but deciding to ignore it for now. "Just Tasuki's fire couldn't have stopped him..."  
  
Hotohori and Tasuki exchange brief glances.   
  
"We don't @$(*$&#@$ know why he left," Tasuki replies after a moment, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "He coulda @#($*&$ fried us while we were tryin' to help you...but, damn man, I don't know--he was there one minute, gone the next. Looked like something @(#*$&$ Chichiri woulda done."  
  
The sound of brakes squealing just outside cuts off my response. Mitsukake gazes at the door for a long moment, frowning slightly...then, he rises to his feet, leaves me sitting alone in the middle of the floor. "We need to get out of here," he announces slowly, turning back to us briefly before returning his attention to the door. "That's my back-up. They'll want to ask questions...and, I have a feeling this isn't something we want to be made public."  
  
I nod, clutching onto Hotohori's sleeve as he wraps an arm around my waist, helps me to my feet. "Hai. We can go back to my house." I pause, smirk. "Besides...there's something there you two need to see."  
  
Tasuki nods hurriedly, begins picking his way across the flower shop to the thin grey metal of the back door. "Oi, come on. The car's parked a few blocks away, by that dirty little McDonald's...oi, and Nuriko--we gotta stop off at my--er, Kats' house on the way. These @#($*&$ shorts are so damn uncomfortable..."  
  
Mitsukake offers a rare, slim smile. "You make a lovely woman, Tasuki."  
  
"SHUT THE HELL UP!"  
  
A few moments later, we're stepping carefully through the crowded streets, glancing around nervously as if expecting to see Nakago leaping out from the shadows on every street we pass...but, as it is, nothing dramatic happens on the way back, or as we pile into the car and Mitsukake turns the key, presses his foot against the accelerator. It feels almost...anticlimactic, to suddenly be in the midst of something so normal after something so violent and different and frightening...but, I know that I have to appreciate it while it's here, that if today is any sign...things are going to be a lot more difficult from now on.   
  
Smiling softly, I lean my head against the back seat window, close my eyes, and exult in the weight of Hotohori's presence just beside me. The side of his leg presses lightly against mine, warm and strong and solid.   
  
I pray this isn't a dream.  
  
---  
  
"Maiagaaaaare! Suzakuuuu! Miracle laaaaaa!"   
  
Hotohori frowns at us, raising a slim eyebrow. "Nuriko...Tasuki...if you don't mind me asking...what is the 'la' supposed to mean?"  
  
I wave my hand at him, grinning and leaning forward in my seat. "Shh--wait a sec..." I wait just a moment longer...then point wildly at the screen as two familiar figures come into view, one clad in long, flowing reddish-orange robes, the other standing respectfully behind him, a long, silken braid dangling over the red of his tunic. "There! See, Hotohori-sama? That's us!"  
  
Tasuki, meanwhile, is still singing along with the theme song. "Anata ni...michibi karete..."  
  
"Ne, be quiet, Tasuki." I elbow him in the ribs...and, accidentally send him flying off the couch and onto the ground. "Uhhh...gomen, gomen."   
  
While a growling Tasuki is picking himself up from the ground, moving to a safer location on the other side of the room, I glance back to Hotohori, find him gazing thoughtfully at the TV screen, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Nuriko...your hair..."  
  
I nod. "Is purple, I know. It's an anime thing." My lips twist into a smile. "You'll notice Tasuki's hair isn't as orange as it is on the show...and, it doesn't stick up as well, either."  
  
"Oi! Shut the hell up about my hair!"  
  
Mitsukake, sitting quietly on the rocking chair in the corner, shifts slightly, glances at Tasuki before returning his attention to the TV screen. "Tasuki is just bursting with testosterone," he comments quietly.  
  
I grin. "He's gotta be. He's been a woman for the past eighteen years, after all...he's got a lot to make up for." I glance at Tasuki, expecting to see him flushing with anger...but, instead he's sitting calmly in his chair, singing along rather loudly with the faster part of the theme song. I smile despite myself.  
  
Abruptly, though, I feel Hotohori's eyes on me, turn reflexively towards him. He stares at me for a long moment, those slim, imperial eyebrows pushing gently together on his forehead, and then he lets out a soft breath, shakes his head slightly. "That tunic you're wearing," he says softly. "It feels...familiar."  
  
I nod, closing my eyes slightly with the motion. "Hai, Hotohori-sama...it should. I wore it on the trip to Hokkan, and when I..." I trail off, a slight chill running up my spine. "I wore it when I fought Ashitare," I conclude quietly.  
  
Hotohori, however, doesn't seem to recognize the significance of the name, and continues to frown at me, missing the first few frames of Miaka's food dreams...but, that's all right. The important stuff doesn't come in until at least the second episode, anyway. He shakes his head again, just slightly. "Demo...when Tasuki put on what he's wearing now...he changed. He was a woman...but, now he's a man. Nuriko...does that mean..."  
  
"Oi, not now," Tasuki growls, tossing a large red pillow in the direction of the couch. The pillow flies expertly, and manages to thud directly into the side of Hotohori's head, bounce against my shoulder, and then land in a heap of red satin in the middle of the floor. Tasuki grins. "I'm tryin' to waaaaatch."  
  
I climb to my feet, rolling up my sleeves reflexively as I glare at the flame-haired seishi. "Taaaaasuki," I hiss, readying myself to move around the coffee table towards him...but, I stop to the touch of a warm hand on my arm.  
  
"Iie, Nuriko," Hotohori says quietly, a slight smile twitching at his lips. "It's all right. Sit down. We have a lot to watch, after all."  
  
Trying to ignore the large red crescent of Tasuki's tongue wagging tauntingly at me, I let out an irritated huff of air, sink back down onto the couch cushions, and turn my attention back to the TV. Now that I focus on what's going on on the screen...I realize, abruptly, just what this all means. Everything I've sat here and watched so many times...everything I've laughed over, cried over, pondered over...it was all real. Real... And, not only that...but, it happened to ME. *I* was there...I was Nuriko...I AM Nuriko.  
  
The smile is on my lips even before the thought completes itself.   
  
I am Nuriko. And, here, sitting beside me...is Hotohori-sama. Over there, on the armchair...Tasuki. In the rocking chair in the corner...Mitsukake. And, somewhere out there, walking blindly through the world...are Chichiri, Chiriko, Tamahome. Suddenly, though, a thought strikes into me, and I draw in a sharp breath, turn to Tasuki with wide, startled eyes.   
  
He frowns. "Nuriko?"  
  
"Tamahome," I say shortly, shaking my head slightly as if to clear it. "The memory jewels...he's Taka now. Gods...he didn't even need to be reborn, did he? He's out there somewhere...as Taka..." I trail off, close my eyes lightly. "With Miaka," I whisper.   
  
How old must she be now?? Taiitsu-kun said it was a few decades ago, that Miaka and Yuu went into the book...gods...  
  
Hotohori stiffens beside me. "Miaka," he murmurs. "Miaka...and Tamahome. I'd...I'd forgotten."  
  
I wince...but, Hotohori doesn't see it. He's staring at the screen again, watching as a jazzy theme plays and Tamahome saves Miaka from a group of men...but, I can see the way that smooth, gently-curving jaw clenches, the way the breath moves sharply between his parted lips.   
  
Something dark and heavy sinks into my stomach. //He still loves her. Even after all this time...even after being reborn...he still loves her.\\  
  
Damn it.  
  
--- 


	12. I'm Him? - 12

Author's Note: Okaaaaaay. I was reading over this fic today, and even though (1) the writing is less than good and (2) some aspects of the plot are kind of cheesy and (3) I really don't remember at all where I was going with it...I'm gonna write more. So, screw the remake, and off we go. ^_~.   
  
---  
I'm Him? - continued from 11  
  
PART XIII: Nuriko, Farewell Forever  
  
~*~  
  
"Well!" I exclaim, jamming my finger quickly onto the "STOP" button. "That's a good stopping point, ne?"  
  
Three sets of eyes turn to me, blink in confusion. But, of course, as I'm quite busy examining the cracks in the plaster, I don't see them, nor do I plan to let on that I'm even aware that they're there. I offer a wide, kinda-shaky grin, and finally risk a glance at Hotohori, sitting there beside me on the couch with a frown tugging at his lips.   
  
"Anybody else hungry?" I stand up, step in front of the TV and start moving towards the doorway. "'Cause I'm starving. I'm pretty sure we've got a whole box of Ramen noodles out in the kitchen if anybody's--"  
  
"Oh, @#$()*$ cut it out," Tasuki growls. He's sitting crosslegged on the living room carpet, back pressed up against the pillar that decorates the side of the electric fireplace, and even though his eyes are a little bleary from the past God-knows-how-many-hours of Fushigi Yuugi watching, he seems awake enough. "Let's just watch the @#$(*& episode..."  
  
I'm just giving him as nasty a glare as I can manage and considering finding another pillow to throw, when Hotohori sits up a little straighter in his seat, glances briefly from Tasuki to me and then back again. "I wouldn't mind eating," he announces. "But...could we at least view the trailer for the next episode before we stop?"  
  
I feel myself go pale. "Ahhh...um...no. Wouldn't wanna spoil it for y--"  
  
"Oh, for God's sake!" And, next thing I know, Tasuki's leaped up, sprung to my side, and ripped the remote control out of my hands.   
  
"TASUKI!" I bellow. I make a wild grab for the remote, but lucky me, he had to be the one with speed as a seishi skill, and he manages to dart and dodge until I'm fairly exhausted and have to give up. I mean, it's hardly fair, since I'm the one who's still recovering from almost -dying- and all...but, as Tasuki settles back into his seat and points the remote at the TV, I can tell he doesn't care all that much. Hrmph. Fine.  
  
As a last resort, I hurry over to the TV stand and park myself right in front of it--and, the little remote control censor thingie must be blocked, because the fuzzy grey screen remains, and Tasuki starts jabbing violently at the buttons from across the room.  
  
"Damn it, Nuriko! What the @($*& is wrong with you? Get outta the way!"  
  
I fold my arms over my chest. "I-I just don't see why we have to watch this episode. We all know what happens."  
  
Mitsukake and Hotohori exchange frowning glances, and the latter raises one cultured eyebrow. "Sumimasen, Nuriko...but, we really have no idea. After all, we're just now getting our memories back."  
  
"Hai," Mitsukake rumbles. "Didn't you say earlier that we had to watch all of Fushigi Yuugi for our memories to return?"  
  
I sigh. "Yeah, I did say that, but..."  
  
"And, didn't you also @$)*&$ say--" Tasuki scowls, still jamming futilely at the buttons. "--that ep 33 is the one @$(*&$ episode that you watch over an' over, anyway? So, what the @#(*$&? Why the hell don'tcha wanna watch it now?"  
  
Feeling irrrationally upset and more than a little stubborn, I stamp my foot. "But, it's different, now! Geez, I mean--that's me, Tasuki! That's -ME-. Is it wrong of me to not wanna watch my own..." I trail off, blush, and turn my face away. "I just...look. If you wanna watch it, you can, but I don't want to. I'll go...sit out in the dining room or something."  
  
I turn and start to walk towards the doorway, arms still folded loosely over my chest--but stop as a soft, barely-audible bass reaches my ears a moment later.  
  
"This is...where you die," Hotohori murmurs, "isn't it, Nuriko? This is the episode."  
  
My shoulders tense; my back is still to them, my eyes locked blankly on the banister of the nearby staircase; my shoulder thuds against the wall of the doorway. "Not exactly," I answer softly. "This is the...the one before it. But, hai."  
  
"Like ya can't @#($*&$ see it comin'," Tasuki mutters. "@#*&$ obvious foreshadowing..."  
  
Before I can think of anything to say to that, I hear a rustle of fabric from the couch, followed by the sound of quiet footsteps thudding towards me. And, then, there's a hand on my shoulder, and when I turn my head to the side, I see a wash of silken chestnut hair, followed by smooth, bronzed skin and amber eyes that glitter with concern. "I know it's hard," Hotohori murmurs, "but you faced it then, Nuriko, when it counted. You can face it, now." The hand on my shoulder gives a gentle squeeze. "We're here with you."  
  
A warmth creeps into my cheeks, and I'm suddenly very glad that my back is turned to the others, particularly Tasuki. Mattaku, I'm reborn, I spend eighteen years as a completely different person, and he -still- has the power to do this to me... Agggh. Giving myself just one more moment to savor the strength of the hand on my shoulder, I draw in a deep breath, close my eyes, and let the air trickle out through my lips.   
  
"All right," I agree at last, quietly. I turn, already feeling the beginnings of nausea rumbling in my stomach. "I...I'll stay."  
  
Hotohori's face is grim and drawn, but he nods, and together, we return to the couch and sit down. Then, Tasuki lifts the remote, clicks play, and episode thirty-two begins.  
  
---  
  
It's strange...but, even though I was sure a few hours earlier that I'd gotten all my memories back, watching this episode still manages to dredge up new ones...and, few of them are pleasant. The first thing I remember is the cold; all I had on my feet were those tiny black shoes, and they left half of my flesh exposed, anyway. I mean, who needs socks and proper shoes when you live in a place where the temperature rarely dips below sixty degrees, where snow is only for high mountaintops and even the wildest stretches of imagination can't prepare you for just how -cold- that stuff really is, anyway? So, my feet were freezing, turning blue from trudging up the side of that mountain. My fingers, too, were naked and ungloved, and the rest of me wasn't much better off, even with the benefit of my cloak and tunic.   
  
It was strange, though...because, even though I was shivering so badly that it was difficult to walk in a straight line, and even though my fingers and toes were cold and wet and starting to feel like they were going to fall off, my mind wasn't focused at all on the cold. It was a minor distraction, the kind of thing you notice but don't really pay much attention to; my thoughts were focused on other things, on more important things and...people. Miaka. Tamahome. Kourin. All my friends, all my family...all the people I loved. They were what drove me through the snow, they were what took me to the peak of that mountain without even getting winded; they were what made it possible for me to stand strong against that monster even when I knew--knew knew KNEW--that the chances of me defeating him were slim.  
  
Even now, after all the time that's passed, the memory of standing there facing him is painfully clear in my mind. I remember sensing his chi and turning around and finding him standing there, his face twisted into a grimace, his teeth so large and so white that they glistened in the sunlight. And, I remember, also, channeling my strength and my life force into the bracelets on my wrists, watching as they morphed into iron gauntlets that gave me an even greater gift of strength than I had naturally...but, even that wasn't enough, was it? Even that added strength, even my size and my agility and my intelligence...it wasn't enough to beat him without getting myself killed in the process.  
  
And, I did it anyway. I knew--I know I did. I knew that there was a good chance I was going to die, and I still went up against him. And, I think, if I had to do it over again...I still would. To protect my friends, to give Miaka a chance to be happy...hai. I'd do it all over again.  
  
Just as the thought completes itself, though, I realize that episode thirty-two is over. The familiar jazzy notes of the ending theme are dancing in our ears--and, suddenly I'm aware of just how deathly silent the room is, of just how pregnant with tension and dread the air is. And again, that nauseous apprehension starts churning in my stomach, and it's all I can do not to leap up from the couch and sprint out of the room...  
  
But, then, shockingly, something warm slides over my hand, and just as I'm realizing that it's -Hotohori's- hand and -Hotohori's- fingers that are squeezing gently at my own, the episode preview flashes onto the screen, and all the breath bleeds out of my body like air from a punctured balloon. My hand goes limp; my shoulders, however, go suddenly tense, and I know that my face is at least three shades paler than it should be and that my breathing is coming quick and labored and if I don't calm down soon, I'm going to hyperventilate or something but if I do that then at least we can shut off this episode and not have to watch me...watch me...  
  
Then, there's a warm breath against my ear, and a soft, soothing voice just behind it. "Shh," Hotohori whispers. "Shh, it's all right." The hand in my own gives another slight squeeze. "I'm here."  
  
//I'm. He said...he said..."I'm." Not "we're"..."I'm." He said, "I'm."\\  
  
And, then, the words "Nuriko, Farewell Forever" flash onto the screen, and the picture fades into the opening song. I don't feel like singing along, though, and apparently neither does Tasuki. I risk a glance towards him, find him sitting very rigidly with his eyes glued to the TV screen, and from the trickles of moisture against his skin, it looks like he's sweating. He must feel my eyes on him, but he doesn't look at me; which is good, I think, because something deep inside of me is teetering on an edge right now, and if he turns to me and there's anything but a smile on his lips or joy in his eyes, I know I'm going to start to cry...and, I don't want to. I don't...I don't want to. So, I look back to the screen and draw a deep breath, and wait. Hotohori doesn't take his hand from mine, and so--despite the fact that I know it means nothing, and despite the fact that I know he's still just as deeply in love with Miaka as he was then--I let myself draw from his strength, and settle in to watch myself die.  
  
And, it's just as bad as I feared it would be.  
  
The memories slam into me with each passing frame, and I can't help but wince at each strike of the monster's fists--or at the sight of my anime self skidding backwards across the snow, his tunic torn open and the sign of the Willow gleaming like fire on his chest. As I watch his back smash into the rock wall and see him drop weakly to the ground, clutching at his ribs and gasping for breath, an echo of that pain jolts within my own body...  
  
My hand slides from Hotohori's of its own will, wraps over my chest--and, I can feel it. It was a sick, rattling feeling, like something inside of me had come loose--and, that was the moment, I think, as I sat there struggling for breath and staring up into the crazed eye of the monster...that I knew I was going to die.   
  
But, I got up anyway. I got up, and I...leaped.   
  
It was my only chance. Blind him, leap, turn, and snap his neck before he had the chance to realize what was going on...but, he was too quick for me. He recovered too quickly, saw through my ruse too soon, and even though I sensed him turning beneath me and knew that he was going to strike, I couldn't stop myself; I couldn't get out of the way because I was soaring through the air like a bird who'd broken a wing and was plummeting down to the earth...  
  
Beside me, Hotohori goes suddenly rigid. Something like a muffled cry springs from his lips, lies in the air between us as that terrible, long, silent moment continues. And, before I know what I'm doing...I'm speaking.   
  
"At first, I didn't feel it," I murmur. My eyes are locked on the TV, not glancing at any of the others, and the words seem to bleed from my lips of their own volition. "At first, I didn't understand why...everything stopped--why I was just hanging there. And, then, he moved underneath me, and I...I felt him move -inside- of me, and I knew that...that..."  
  
A low, wavery voice that I barely recognize cuts into my words. "Shut up," Tasuki whispers. "Shut...shut up."  
  
So, I do.  
  
And, gradually, as the episode proceeds, as I watch myself go limp in Tamahome's arms and remember -so clearly- what it felt like to die...I become aware of a sound from just behind me, a sound that tears into me with a pain greater even than Ashitare's claws.  
  
Because, Hotohori is...crying.  
  
"Ho...Hotohori-sama," I manage. I turn to him, see the hand clamped to his mouth, the tears running in hot streams down his cheeks. He's sobbing quietly, barely a sound escaping the muffling presence of his hand, and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut.   
  
Before I know what I'm doing, I've slid over to him and wrapped my arms around him, slid my hands beneath his arms and pressed my cheek to his chest. He stiffens beneath me, and I hear the soft gasping of breath as he lifts the hand from his mouth.  
  
Even as I lay here, warm and shaking and crying myself, I don't know why I did this--I don't know why I thought he would let me hold him, or why I thought it would mean anything...but, it's too late, now. Now, there's Hotohori's heartbeat in my ears, the warmth of Hotohori's chest against me; I'm lifted, very gently, in rhythm to his breathing, and I discover that my head fits with eerie perfection into the groove beneath his chin...  
  
It's not going to last. I know it. I know that in a moment, he's going to regain control of himself, return to being the strong, solid man I respected and loved for all the years of my life that mattered, and I'm going to have to move...but for now, at least, I'm in his arms. For now...everything's okay.  
  
I don't expect it, but a moment later, I feel his arms circle around me, pull me close. "I was selfish that day," he whispers; the words hammer into my soul, make it hard to breathe. "You were dead...and, all I could think about was how lonely I was going to be...without my friend. I...I was selfish. I'm so sorry, Nuriko. I'm so...so sorry."  
  
And suddenly, Tasuki bursts into tears.  
  
"IT'S NOT @#$(*&$ FAAAAAAIR!" he wails.   
  
Startled, I lift my head from Hotohori's chest, turn to stare at him with wide eyes...and, find the bandit with both hands pressed to his face, the tears streaming out through the breaks in his fingers. "It's not @#($*&$ fair," he sobs. "Shoulda never @#($*&$ gone by your @#$(*&$ self you @($*&$ IDIOT! It was @#$(*&$ STUPID!"  
  
"T...Tasuki..." My voice sounds hoarse, croaking out through the tears. "Tasuki, I..."  
  
Before I can say anything else, though, he wipes a sleeve across his face, leaps to his feet, and stalks out. A moment later, I hear the slam of the powder room door, followed by the sound of toilet paper being ripped off the roll and harsh, hiccuping sobs.   
  
Helplessly, I look to Mitsukake, still sitting there on the rocking chair with his hands resting lightly on the armrests. His eyes are red and teary, but he grants me a slight smile.  
  
"You would think he wasn't the one who insisted we watch this episode," he offers. "But, then..." The smile droops a little. "He reacted much the same way the first time around. I suppose he should've expected this."  
  
My emotions are reeling--and, that song!! That damned damned damned sad song...! Nearing the point of screaming, I lunge for the remote and stab my thumb onto the stop button. Thankfully, Kaze no Uta goes away after that, and I turn back to Hotohori, wondering if I could get away with another short little hugging session...  
  
...when I notice, rather abruptly, that his eyes are not focused on me, but rather on something just off my left shoulder.  
  
I turn. And, there, standing in the doorway with wide eyes and purse still slung over one shoulder, is my mother.   
  
"Riley!" she exclaims. "What's going on here? Who are all these strange men? AND, WHO'S CRYING IN OUR BATHROOM??"  
  
"Heh...um..." I sigh. "Maybe we'd better talk about this somewhere else."  
  
//Nuriko, farewell forever. Your mother is going to ground you until you're thirty-five.\\  
  
Still wiping at the tears clinging to my cheeks, I brush past Mom and start down the hallway towards the kitchen. I still don't know what on earth I'm going to say to her, even as I come to a halt, lean my back up against the counter, and find her eyes on me.  
  
~*~ 


End file.
